


Soft Names, Soft Touches

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Smut, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 78,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: Franki’s life has been a hard one. She went from being a girl in the Red Rooms of Russia to a guinea pig for Hydra when she was only nine years old. Unable to feel pain, she is rescued by the Avengers, becomes part of their team, and struggles every day with physical contact. Bucky knows all this, knows just how difficult it is to come back from the dehumanizing effects of Hydra’s brutality, and wants nothing more than to reach out to the tiny woman with the silver eyes that tugs so hard on his heart. -Canon divergent after Civil War.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing. Violence. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter One

 

* * *

She had always believed pain was a relative emotion. Either you felt it, or you didn’t.

As a child, Franki had assumed she’d chosen not to feel pain and didn’t understand when others had moaned and groaned and cried out from it. Pain was a weakness she couldn’t afford. It wasn’t until she was older that she realized the truth. She _couldn’t_ feel pain.

She couldn’t _feel_ much at all.

The first time her wrist had broken during a spar with another girl in the Red Room she had looked at it for a moment, dangling, useless in its twisted, oddly bent shape before a madam had begun yelling for a nurse. She had only shrugged when the nurse had asked if it hurt.

Later, after she’d been sent to China, she’d snapped four ribs fighting off three other Weapons that had been tasked with beating her when she had refused to comply again. At the time she had given only a hard grunt, barely flinching, and put one of the metal hair sticks she’d fashioned from a broken spoon through each of their thighs. It wasn’t until she’d started to have difficulty breathing that she realized there was a problem.

She had always been careful to weigh the choices she made. Fight or flight. Yes vs no. Comply or resist. Each one was carefully calculated. She knew the odds, knew the risks, and had, more often than not, taken them anyways because it had been what kept her alive.

The leg, however, was a risk she hadn’t calculated.

Falling from that height should have, technically, killed an average person but by this point, Franki knew she wasn’t normal. She wasn’t sure she had ever been quote-unquote _normal_ , but she was still learning the limits of her enhanced body and how far she could push it when it came to field work.

She healed fast, always had, but since the introduction of the serum, a sprain or laceration was usually gone in under twenty minutes. Not feeling the pain, she barely noticed when her blood splattered the walls or dripped into her boots. It wasn’t until she got back to the tower or the compound and had to peel the crusty clothing off herself that she even knew she’d been injured, though, with how fast she healed, she could rarely tell you where she’d been wounded.

The leg, however, was a total pain in her ass. Metaphorically speaking of course. Forty feet straight down onto concrete was, evidently, the extent the serum could protect her and her bones could take before they broke.

She’d stuck the landing, rolled, rose to her feet, took a single step and went down nearly on her face when the leg buckled. Landing hard, barely managing to catch herself on her hands, she rolled again and glared at her shin where the bone was protruding through the cloth of her bodysuit.  

“Shit…” hissed from Franki softly before she turned silver eyes back to the windows to see if anyone was foolish enough to follow. “Nat?”

“Franki?”

The voice of the Black Widow slid through the com and in turn her ear, a bit like velvet, or chocolate that melted heavenly in your mouth. It almost made her smile. “Broke my leg.”

“What!? Fuck!”

“Natasha! Language!” Steve growled.

Another smile twitched Franki’s lips. No matter how they teased him, Cap just couldn’t let it go. “Forty-foot drop. Stuck the landing.”

“It’s not _sticking_ the landing when you break your damn _leg_!” Natasha snarled, shooting the three HYDRA agents in front of her. “Bucky, you catch that?”

_Shit…._ Pressing a hand to her eyes, Franki sighed. “Nat…” she nearly groaned.

“He’s the closest one to your position, Franki,” Nat smirked wickedly, knowing Franki’s particular brand of fondness extended far deeper for the Winter Soldier than she was letting on.

Franki could hear the smile in her partner’s voice before another deeper one cut through. “Inbound in two.” The Winter Soldier was _pissed_ if the tone was anything to go by.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ Bucky was going to chew out her ass for this and then Steve was going to give her the sad puppy eyes. Flopping backwards, Franki glared at the building above her, lifted her gun and shot the head that appeared from the window she’d busted through. The body fell not far from where she was laid out.

Sighing, Franki sat up and sneered at her broken tibia. “Stupid,” she grumbled.

“I agree.”

Swinging the gun up, she held it on Bucky before huffing and lowering it.  “Damn cat. Where’s your bell?” He was used to her smart mouth and only glared at her as he murder strutted his way across the roof. How someone so large could _stomp_ like that and not make a single bloody sound astounded her. A second, less appropriate thought of _damn he’s pretty_ was quickly locked down.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Pulling his rifle around, Bucky lifted it and shot the next agent that stuck his head out the window. That body landed on the first.

“I wanted to set a new record for the height of my unassisted swan dive?” Franki snipped, rolling her eyes. “I was stuck, dammit! It was my only option!” Throwing out her hand, she shot the third agent and the fourth without bothering to look up. The position was already well ingrained, and they all seemed too stupid to stop sticking their heads out the window in the same spot. She made quick work putting in a fresh clip, watching the man stride towards her.

Two more sickening thuds hit one after another and had Bucky arching a brow. “You couldn’t wait five minutes? I was on my way!”

Crossing her arms, Franki looked out at the building. “Managed sixty feet last time without breaking anything. How was I to know this would happen?” Even to her ears, she sounded like a pouting child.

“Jeez! Sweet fucking–” he cut himself off when the door slammed open on the roof exit, and a half dozen Hydra agents swarmed out. Snarling, Bucky turned hard, whipped both hands forwards and released six sharp throwing knives with an efficiency that caught each agent in the throat. All six bodies landed at nearly the same time. “Last time you landed in a _forest_ and used the damn trees to _break your fall_!” he barked, finally arriving at her side where the sight of her tibia sticking out of the lower half of her leg made him swear. “Shit, doll. Does it hurt?” It looked nasty. She needed to stop doing these things. They gave him a damn heart attack every time, this time no different when she’d come flying out the window like she’d leapt from the pool’s high dive. He’d been on his way to her long before Nat had said anything.

“Does it ever?” Rolling her eyes, Franki motioned towards the metal arm. “Can we get on with it? I got the hard drive and would like to get out of here.”

Even after all the missions they’d done together, the fact that she still maintained nothing hurt her shocked the shit out of him. That and the fact she wanted _him_ to set the damn thing made him both sad and angry. Sad that she’d gotten hurt, to begin with, and mad she was so nonchalant about the whole thing. It was like she _expected_ to be injured on each and every mission.

Ever since Franki had been freed from the compound in northern China, she had been part of the Avengers. Just like Nat, she had been trained in the Red Rooms of Russia, a few classes behind the Black Widow. Her training though had taken a decidedly sideways turn when at the age of nine Hydra had come through and demanded a few select girls for a secret project, one that had seen Francessca taken to a remote base and used as a Hydra guinea pig. She’d been given a serum, not unlike the one both he and Steve had, but, unlike them who could heal fast, cuts and bruises disappearing in a few days rather than weeks, she had the ability to _fast_ heal, and she felt no pain. Whether that was the serum or just who she had been before, an inhuman that they had found by accident, none of them knew for sure.

Still, he felt a strong attachment to the silver-eyed vixen that had figured out early just which buttons to push to mess with him. 

Tiny, just like Nat at barely five foot three, Franki had the uncanny ability to make all those around her want to protect her. Nat was a badass, they all knew it, and Franki was just as skilled, but something about Franki screamed vulnerability. Had Hydra managed to use her as a weapon she would have been formidable simply because no one would have suspected her of doing any harm. She looked like a porcelain doll, sweet and breakable.

Steve had been the one to find her strapped to a metal gurney. He’d taken one look at her bruised and bloody form, clothed in tiny shorts and sports bra, and had sent his shield into the group of _doctors_ that had stood around her, one with a needle in hand, filled with something Bucky didn’t want to think about. Some kind of poison he assumed. Something to kill her quick so she couldn’t be turned. They wouldn’t want to lose their _asset_. Not another one.

Natasha had come charging through the door when Steve had sworn. Steve _didn’t_ swear. He was the damn language police so to hear _fuck_ come out of Cap’s mouth had sent her running. She’d burst through in time to watch him rip the straps from Franki’s wrists and legs but had been thrown for a loop when the woman he was _rescuing_ simply swung her feet to the ground and stood up, slipping out from under his gentle hands with a quick flinch.

Bruised, bloody, battered. She had been beaten within an inch of her life yet. Still, she stood up, looked from Steve to Natasha, and spoke in fluent Russian. “I know who you are. I know where you came from. If you can overcome what was done to you, learn to trust another, believe in what they fight for, I wish to go and fight with you.” Unable to understand half of what she’d said, Steve had looked to Nat for clarification, but for once the Black Widow was nearly mute in shock. It was only the gunfire and the arrival of Bucky and Sam that had knocked her from her memories of torture and young girls with frozen faces.

“How long have you been here?” Natasha had asked, her Russian just as perfect, her grip tightening on her gun.

“Since they took me from the Red Room at nine. I refused to cooperate. They beat me. I refuse to kill for them. They beat me. I refused to become Hydra’s weapon. They beat me and stuck me in a machine to take my memories. When it did not work,” she shrugged, “They tried to break me by making me their newest experiment. They failed.”

Her eyes had drifted to him during her speech, and the silver of them had Bucky catching his breath. The skin around both eyes was black, her cheekbone was blue, her jaw was set at an odd angle that had her slurring slightly. Cuts, bruises, lacerations covered her milk-white skin, and he’d thought he’d finally lost it when those cuts and scrapes, the deep black bruises, slowly started to shrink and disappear.

“This,” she flicked her fingers, broken and crooked, at her arms, “Is why they did not just kill me. I am… _different._ ” They had been trying to reproduce her reaction to the serum for years.

And she had proceeded to show them how different when she’d snapped her fingers back into place without a single flinch and forced her jaw into alignment. Within twenty minutes all but the most severe of the injuries were completely gone. Not that they’d had a chance to watch. They were all too busy running for the e-vac and trying not to get shot. It was Nat that had handed Franki a gun, and they’d learned first-hand just how lethal she was.

One bullet. Every kill was one bullet. A direct shot through the eye no matter how fast she was running, or how far the target, it was _one fucking bullet_. Bucky had never been turned on by that sort of thing before, but, as he’d chased her through the trees, her bare feet flashing through the snow, he’d watched her pick off target after target and found his heart pounding in a way it never did. Blood surged, heat warmed him, and he’d had to force himself not to react physically.

Perhaps it was her small stature or the way she had a siren’s body that made one think of satin sheets and moaning, sweating, hot nights of lust. Maybe it was the cascading fall of chestnut hair that tumbled in waves to her waist. Maybe it was the smart mouth that had an answer and a comeback for everything and anything. He couldn’t have said what it was for sure, but he’d taken one look in those silver eyes in China and known she was going to knock him on his ass.

When Natasha had tried to assist her with her seat belt on the quintet, he’d known she was going to jerk on his heart as soon as the words _do not touch me_ had flown from her suddenly shaking form. They’d raced through a forest full of shooting Hydra agents, and she hadn’t batted an eye but someone touching her terrified her.

Giving himself a mental shake, Bucky crouched down and took a firm grip below her knee with his gloved hand, the metal one wrapping around the lower part of her shin just beneath the break. “You ready?”

Rolling her eyes, Franki rested on her elbows, watching his back while he was preoccupied. “ _Da_ , do it.”

Grinding his teeth together, Bucky tightened his hold on her leg and slowly pulled the bone back down and into place as best he could. She made no noise, didn’t even tense when the bones ground together. No blood sprayed, and he gave a sigh of relief. “Looks like you missed anything important.” They wouldn’t know for sure until they got back to the jet.

“Hm.” Franki only nodded. “Help me up.”

He damn near growled at her. “I’m not lettin’ you walk on that leg, doll.” Her silver eyes flashed defiance, but he only ignored her. Gathering her into his arms, he slung her up high on his chest and looked directly into her frozen visage. She looked about ready to chew him a new one. “Just watch my back, sweetheart.” They’d learned quickly the only time Franki was relatively okay with contact was when her skin was thoroughly covered as it was in her uniform, so he didn’t hesitate to drag her up against him.

Glaring at his smug face, she bent neatly backwards over his arm to snag the gun from his waistband before unloading three rounds into the three agents coming through the door. Straightening back up, she arched a sleek brow. “Shall we, _pack mule?_ ”

Her torso had stretched like that of a svelte feline, all black and grey catsuit pulling taunt over flexible abs, her perky breasts pressing up against the zipper. Unlike Nat, Franki had asked for a bodysuit done in black and grey, something that let her blend into the shadows. It had a hood that came up to cover the hair she always tied up, wrapping it into a thick, tight bun, leaving the creamy length of her neck bare but for a few tendrils that slipped out to stick to her skin with her sweat.

Franki had the innate ability to sneak into any place known to man, and she was deadly if cornered leaving bodies in her wake that often seemed to appear from nowhere, hence her moniker of _Reaper_. Once they’d learned she was computer savvy, it became her job to collect the intel while the rest of the team did a fair job of distracting the soldiers and agents of Hydra. She could blend in, appear and disappear as if she was a shade, leave no trace, bend and flex her way into spaces and places no one should be able to get into and get back out again _usually_ without getting caught.

When she did, it was often her skin that gave her away, hence the large, deep hood. Her flesh was _snow_ _white_ and damn near glowed in the dark. It never scarred. It looked softer than the softest kitten, and she smelled like frost and vanilla. Both sweet and bitingly cold at the same time.

He wanted to drown in that scent. But she’d never shown even the slightest interest in him. The only thing that kept him sane around her was that she’d never shown an interest in _any_ man.

She joined them for Tony’s parties, dressed to kill, drank at the bar, danced with Nat and Wanda, but she never looked twice at the men that looked at her, always keeping her distance. She never accepted a drink or dance invitation and had garnered a reputation as a cold-hearted bitch. But he knew better. She just didn’t like being touched.

She was better now, less likely to jump straight out of her skin if touched accidentally, but she would panic quickly if someone refused to let go, going directly into fight mode and lashing out. Something Sam had learned firsthand, the hard way. The suave debonair of the Falcon had failed him when he’d taken Franki’s hand, tightened his grip when she’d jerked away, and gotten an impressive – and incredibly flexible – foot to the side of the head for his trouble.

After years locked in a facility where every touch was a blow, every word was psychological warfare, and every day was spent fighting to hold on to what little pieces of yourself remained, it made perfect sense to Bucky. He’d been the same way not long ago.

He thanked whatever god had seen fit to grant her, her inability to feel pain because it had allowed her to survive the hell she’d been in. If he ever found the rest of those responsible for her captivity, the ones who’d taken her to China and left her there, he’d kill them. He’d kill them all, and he’d do it slowly… with his bare hands.

He shot her a glare at her unflattering name but didn’t comment. She disliked _sweetheart –_ he did have a tendency to drawl it with a slightly condescending air – so he’d kind of had it coming. She also hated it when she needed help, so it was a double spank to her ego. Her arms wrapped his neck, and he caught the slight smile that creased her lips. It was rare, that smile, and he cherished the fact that he’d pulled it from her. “Hold on, _Francessca_.”

A shiver streaked her spine, but she contained the outward reaction. It shot a single bolt of sensation through her body, and she jacked herself higher in his arms until she was pressed fully against him with her elbows crossing behind his neck. Lips a breath from his ear, she growled, “Run, soldier,” and shot two more agents.

_Fucking hell!_ How was he supposed to run when he was so god damned hard? But the guns going off were like the starter’s pistol to a race, and he heaved the two of them towards the far roof line. More agents were swarming onto the roof, and there was a chopper headed for them that had him barking out, “Stark!”

“Ah, sunshine! You miss me already?”

Tony’s smug chuckling voice would have made him snort if he wasn’t so worried about getting shot. Even with Franki’s skill, there were just too many of them. The old Soviet base was a mass of buildings, the office tower that Franki had jumped from the tallest, but the barracks she’d landed on wasn’t exactly short either. Still, a three-story jump was nothing as long as he didn’t get clipped by a bullet on the way down. He was big enough to crush her if he fell on her. “Just do it, Stark!” The helicopter exploded in a shower of sparks over everything before slamming into the tower behind them.

“Oh dear,” Franki whispered, watching the building start to crumble. “Bucky, you’d best find that super solider gear you two old guys constantly brag about.”

He didn’t bother to look back. The ominous creaking and groaning were enough heads up, as was Stark’s not so sorry sounding, _whoops_ , that came through the comms. “ _Gayka rabota_.”

The Russian words for _nutjob_ growled from Bucky’s lips, and Franki couldn’t quite contain the snicker they caused. It wasn’t until after her rescue and the team’s arrival on the quinjet that she’d revealed her fluent and completely unaccented English. It was one of many languages learned before she’d been taken from the Red Room. But running through the woods, Bucky, or, as she’d thought of him at the time, the big metal one, had related information in Russian as well. While she trusted the one she knew as Black Widow and the one called Captain America because those two were spoken of in angry whispers, whispers that thrilled her and gave her hope every day, the big metal one had kind eyes. He’d been protective without crowding her, and even though it was unnecessary, he was the first one ever to do such a thing. It had been strangely… _nice_. She’d had very little nice in her life. It wasn’t until later that she’d learned _who_ he was. The Winter Soldier was also spoken of in hushed, angry tones after being freed from Hydra’s programming.

Even with the revelation that she could speak perfectly good English, Bucky still, occasionally, slipped into Russian with her when he was particularly keen on not having the team overhear what he had to say. Nat would know, but she would never tell. It was no different than how Franki spoke Sokovian with Wanda, or whichever language Vision was learning at the time. He had a horrible habit of just slipping into another one midsentence, but it kept Franki on her toes.

She felt Bucky’s foot hit the edge of the barracks as he launched them both into the air, heading straight over the chain link and razor wire fence that surrounded the compound and another good thirty feet beyond that. His flesh hand gripped her thigh tightly as the metal one went up, out, and clamped into the trunk of what would eventually be a very unhappy tree as he used his vibranium fingers to slow their descent before dropping the last few feet to the ground and taking off again. “Steve, Nat, we're out.” The building went down behind them in a thunderous crash and cloud of debris, utterly destroying the barracks.

“Get to the jet.” A clang was heard as Steve slammed his shield into something, or, more likely, someone. “Nat, Tony and I are right behind you.”

“Where’s the vulture?” An arrow embedded in the tree beside him, narrowly missing Bucky’s face.

A second small snicker escaped Franki’s lips as she grabbed the shaft of the arrow and retrieved it for Clint. “You missed, _vorobey_.” Bucky’s chuckle rumbled through her. He highly enjoyed the fact that she called Clint _sparrow,_ a name that Natasha had taken to using a little too often.

“On purpose! And don’t call me that!” Clint barked, but they could both hear the grin in his voice.

Out of all of the team, only Clint and Natasha had earned what Franki called _soft names_. Clint because he was relatively safe, married, and if he flirted a little it was meant to be platonic and nothing more than fun. And Nat, well, she was Nat. A woman Bucky knew Franki had admired for a long time. The fact that the two had become fast and close friends was of little surprise to him. Nat knew what Franki had gone through the first half of her life, and while no one, not even Bucky, truly understood what had happened during the second, Natasha had been the one to stay glued to Franki’s ass the first few months back at the tower.

At first, it had been to make sure _Francessca_ was exactly what she claimed to be, but it had swiftly developed into true friendship when Franki’s honesty became known. She never lied. She may not always say everything, but she never told a lie, to Tony’s unending horror, Cap’s delight, and Sam’s amusement.

Scott had nearly collapsed in disbelief, while Peter, still mostly a kid, had been in awe and utterly charmed. That boy had a crush the size of Manhattan on Franki. Too bad Bucky’s was bigger, and he wasn’t afraid to slap spider punk in the head if he got out of line.

Nat’s was _klubnika,_ strawberry, and how in the hell she’d come up with that he’d never been able to figure out. He thought it might have something to do with Nat’s hair, but he’d given up understanding the working minds of females long before he’d become the Winter Solider. Still, it irked him that _Clint_ had a soft name. An unflattering one to be sure, but one no less.

He wanted one, a _soft name_ , on that fell only from her lips. One he would coax from her when he finally grew the balls to ask her out. One she would sigh the first time he kissed her when she learned his touch was not one to fear. One that she could cry in the night as he thrust into her body over and over. One that would fly free when she climaxed around him. He swore if one more person earned on from her before he did, he’d take it personally.

Arriving at the quinjet, Bucky climbed the ramp, aware that the vulture was lurking in a tree to the north. “You see ‘em yet?” he asked, heading for the med bed.

“Yeah. Tony’s blowing shit up again,” Clint sighed.

“Really, Clint? You have kids.” Steve scolded through the comms.

“All work and no play makes for a bored Iron Man. Got to test out the new suit.” Tony huffed indignantly, ignoring Steve.

A snort came from Nat. “If you didn’t build a new suit every three weeks you wouldn’t have to keep testing a new suit.”

Franki snickered a third time at the banter over the comms, finally relaxing enough to draw back and look at Bucky. Her vision wavered a little, and her head felt slightly full, like how she thought a head cold should feel. Everything seemed strangely foggy, but her thoughts were full of nothing but the Winter Soldier. She’d learned early that the kind eyes matched the kind man and she had grown fond of him. Fondness blossomed into much stronger feelings and had never faded.

He was careful with her, much more so than the others. He never touched her accidentally, and if he had to, he made absolutely sure she was prepared for it, and he never touched her skin, always the suit or her clothing. He was a good man, and if she weren’t so afraid that she would hurt him by never being able to tolerate his touch, she would have told him how much she liked him long ago.

He held her still, cradled, like she was precious cargo, the longest contact she’d ever had with him and Franki looked at him for one long moment, silver eyes connecting with blue so clear they seemed to glow. The skin that usually crawled, itching to be away from the person that touched her, was, strangely silent. It surprised her, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Switching both guns to one hand, Franki took out her earpiece, tossed it to a shelf along with Clint’s arrow and placed her hand on Bucky’s cheek. It caused his eyes to widen, shocked by the action but she just left it there. If she had only this one chance, she was going to take it while her skin was distracted. “I don’t say it often because it isn’t often necessary but… thank you… _snegopad_. For the rescue.” Leaning in, she kissed him ever so softly on the cheek.

Everything inside him went quiet. There was no thought, no movement, no sound but the rabbit pounding of his heart. He felt nothing but her slight weight and the gentle press of lips to his cheek. _Snegopad_ … she’d called him _snowfall._ A soft name all for him.

By the time she pulled away his brain had kicked back in enough for him to turn his head and look into smoky silver eyes. “Why snowfall?” It was all he could think to ask.

A soft laugh escaped her, an even rarer sound than her quiet snicker. “You are like the snow that comes upon us in the night. Quiet, deadly…” her hand lightly wandered his cheek and jaw, “Beautiful,” she whispered, eyes drifting down to his lips, followed by her thumb that lightly traced his lower one. “A force to be reckoned with, an unstoppable one. Nature’s fury at its finest. You are the soft snow falling in fat flakes over dense forests when you hunt the prey of an assassin, silent and so still. And you are the blizzard, swift and vicious when you rage through a building in search of your comrades.”

“Franki…” he breathed out softly, stunned. A woman didn’t say such things and feel nothing for the person she told them too.

She smiled then, softly, sweetly, dragging her fingertips over his full lips. “I have always loved the snow…” Franki whispered, darkness closing in on her. “Bucky…” was all she managed before her eyes rolled back and she went limp.

“Fuck!” Bucky bellowed, lunging for the med bed. “Friday! Vitals report on Francessca!”

“Bucky!?” Steve shouted from the door as he and the rest of the team barreled up the ramp.

“Get this bird in the air!” He snarled at Clint before turning back to Franki. “Friday!”

“Sergeant Barnes, Ms. Romanoff seems to have punctured the femoral artery in her right leg. It appears her femur was also cracked in her fall. Though her healing ability has repaired it, there is an excessive amount of blood pooling in that limb. Along with those injuries, she has a bruise that has penetrated all the way to her right kidney, her third, fourth, and fifth rib are cracked, and she has been dealt a nearly debilitating blow to the head. She should have lost consciousness long ago, but it appears the swelling is decreasing at a rapid pace. All in all, her body is repairing itself remarkably quickly. Ms. Romanoff is simply weak from blood loss and exhaustion. I recommend draining the blood from her leg, administering IV fluids to replace the loss, and rest.”

The AI finished speaking as Bucky’s hands made swift work of Franki’s right pant leg. The thing was shredded from where her tibia had lacerated it, and he grimaced when he found the white skin beneath was nearly as black as her suit. The stagnate blood could give her sepsis, possible though unlikely, and with Steve and Tony looking on, Nat assisting as Clint got them airborne, Bucky took the sterile scalpel in his hand and sliced open the back of Franki’s calf. All of them cringed when what seemed like an unending supply of Franki’s blood poured out onto the towels beneath her.    

Once the colour began to leach out of her snow-white skin, Bucky allowed the deep cut to close, not bothering to stitch it. There was little point as the wound he’d inflicted was already knitting itself back together. Nat had cut open Franki’s sleeve and started the IV running while he’d watched. When she’d finished, and Friday had assured them all that Ms. Romanoff, a name Franki and Nat had decided on together as Francessca had no idea what her true one was and Nat hadn’t minded claiming Franki as family, would be fine, Bucky had gotten a blanket down from the cabinet above the bed and carefully spread it over her before removing the guns from her still strong grip.

The rest of the team watched quietly as the Winter Soldier lost his heart a little more to the petite woman that no one could quite get a read on. Franki was very internalized. She usually quite quiet but her wit was quick and funny, and she would occasionally smirk a little at things she found amusing. She didn’t laugh much but when she did it was a musical sound. They all knew she was a bit broken, even though she protested otherwise. Just because she couldn’t feel physical pain didn’t mean emotional pain couldn’t take its toll. Franki had much emotional pain, she just hid it exceptionally well.

But Nat knew. She’d listened to Franki cry her first night in the tower when the water ran hot in the shower. When she had finally cleaned so many years of filth from her skin and there were towels softer and bigger than any she’d been given by Hydra. She’d watched Franki’s hands shake when she reached for the food that Natasha had also been eating, knowing it was clean and wouldn’t leave her vulnerable. Nat had listened to Franki sob softly when the nightmares took her until, unable to stand it, she’d crawled into bed with the woman and held her tight. And had learned how much Franki hated being touched yet how badly she needed the connection. She had been dehumanized for so long, it was difficult to come back from that.

Even now, it wasn’t uncommon to find Franki drifting into her room in the middle of the night after a particularly vicious nightmare. However, she threw a calculating look towards Barnes. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone. Bucky, too, Nat knew, had his share of nightmares but he was getting better; had been for a while. Tony’s forgiveness had gone a long way to allowing Bucky to heal from what Hydra had done. He’d never be the same as he was in the forties but he was better, and a better man for it. Perhaps Bucky was just what Franki needed to help her heal herself.

With the way he looked a Franki and the way Franki looked at him, she knew she was going to be doing some _serious_ meddling over the next few days. With a glance to the man in blue and one to the one in red and gold, she knew her two co-conspirators had seen the same thing she had. Rubbing her hands gleefully together, Nat thought, _let the games begin._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing. Violence. Russian that may or may not be correct. Angst. Mild sexual content.

## Chapter Two

* * *

Franki woke to the soft sound of beeping and had an instant heart-stopping moment of panic before a strong hand squeezed her own. Her eyes snapped open and darted to the person sitting beside her bed and finding Natasha filled her with relief that she wasn’t back _there_. Back in the hell hole the Avengers had pulled her out of. “ _Sestra_ ,” she murmured, calling Nat _sister_ and causing the redhead to smile.

“ _Sestrenka_ ,” Nat replied with _little sister_ , a smirk twitching her lips. “You gave us all a fright.” Especially one large, metal-armed supersoldier but she kept that knowledge to herself for the moment.

Sitting up, Franki looked down at her air cast coated leg and sighed. “Steve is going to chew my ass out for this.”

“He’s going to have to stand in line.” Seeing her best friend and heart sister sit up was all Natasha needed to unleash the anger living inside her. “What the _hell_ were you thinking? You could have killed yourself, Franki! You took a _swan dive_ out a seventh-floor window onto a concrete roof and expected to what, just get up and walk away? God! I just want to _smack you so hard_!”

Blinking, surprised by the vehemence, Franki had to take a moment to catch up. “Natasha,”

“No! No way,” The fired up redhead waved her hands and paced back and forth at the foot of Franki’s bed. “You don’t get to speak, not yet.” Stalking back around to stand before the brunette with the sickeningly perfect mane of hair, Nat gripped her by the shoulders and wasn’t offended when she flinched. Holding her tight, she jerked the other woman forwards and hugged her hard. “You are not expendable. You are not allowed to throw your life away because you _feel nothing_! You may not feel your pain, but the rest of us do, dammit! You are not some _afterthought_ that we picked up one day in China. You’re part of this team, part of our _family_ , and if you don’t stop pulling this _bullshit_ I will see that Steve and Fury bench you!”

Gasping softly, Franki recoiled at Nat’s words. “You think that I... that I am _trying_ to hurt myself?”

Sighing, Nat plopped down beside her. “Sometimes… yeah.” Taking the brunette’s hand, Natasha held it between her own. “Franki, I’ve seen you take blows you could easily have avoided. I’ve listened to your bones break, watched your bruises heal, your skin knit back together as if the damage was never done. You take unnecessary risks. You fight like your life doesn’t matter. Only the job. Always the job. Sometimes… you scare me, _sestrenka_.”

A second sharp gasp left Franki’s lungs. She had _scared_ Natasha, the Black Widow. The one all the girls in the Red Rooms had been told was _the best_. The fearless one. Franki had caused the strongest woman she knew to admit to fear. It broke something inside her to hear those words. “ _Klubnika_ ,” she whispered, heart aching. “I did not realize…”

“Yeah, well, cut that shit out,” Natasha grumbled, a small smirk twitching her lips, a tiny flush of red in her cheeks announcing her embarrassment at admitting something so personal. “I mean it, Franki. You are _important_ to me, to us. We feel your pain, even if you don’t.” Patting her hand, the redhead stood from the bed and gave in to the need to grin coyly. “Some of us more than others.”

Franki looked at her confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a large metal lug has been lurking, waiting for you to wake up.” Natasha snickered when Franki blushed.

“Oh, god,” she whispered, fingers going to her lips as everything she’d said to him before she’d passed out came screaming back. “I’m so stupid.”

Natasha was quick to sit back down. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“ _Klubnika_ , I did something very foolish.” Franki whispered, “I don’t know what came over me. I gave him his _soft name_.”

“No!?” Nat gasped, wanting to shriek for joy. “You called him _snegopad_?” It was an unknown fact that Franki had soft names for all of them. Wanda knew hers because it was impossible to keep anything from Wanda. Clint and Natasha’s were well used, though Sam had only called her strawberry once before Nat had thoroughly handed him his ass in the training ring, but all of them had her little soft names. Franki just kept them close to her heart, rather than dolling them out.

Steve was _belyy rystar’_ , the white knight, an honourable leader that she was happy to follow. Wanda was _blesk_ , a brilliant sparkle, and Nat thought it suited the Scarlet Witch well, as did Wanda who always blushed in pleasure when Franki used it. Sam was _lovko_ , slick, for his smooth talking ways. Franki would always just roll her eyes and walk away. She loved him like a brother, but he was the little annoying one that did too much talking. Scott had earned his, _obayatel’nyy_ , for being exactly what he was, sweetly charming and a charlatan at the same time. Franki had pegged him, and the Ant-Man hadn’t stood a chance.

Tony was _kotenok_ , kitten, and Nat wasn’t sure how the Iron Man had garnered such a name, but he was excessively arrogant, kind of like a loud-mouthed Siamese who had moments of swift activity but could also spend hours doing nothing. On second thought, Nat found it was kind of perfect. Peter, the little spider, had become _lapochka_ , sweetie pie because he truly was. Plus, he was too damn young and innocent for any other name. And Vision was _myshka_ , little mouse because he was as quiet as one and moved without noise, appearing and disappearing without warning. Fury was _nachal’nik,_ boss man, though he spent little time with them now.

Both Bruce and Thor hadn’t been around as much, Franki unable to make a decision on their _soft names_ as she just didn’t know them very well. Thor was stuck in Asgard, dealing with the fallout from his brother’s latest escapade, and Bruce was, well, he was being Bruce and had disappeared again. The Hulk had been more present in his day to day life than ever before and, though he accepted the _other guy_ was part of him and not something he was ever going to get rid of, sometimes he just needed to disappear into a rainforest or the wilderness of some remote area to find a little balance again.

Focusing back on Franki, Nat let her grin widen at her rapidly reddening friend. “And!?”

“And what? I passed out!” She flopped backwards over the bed and felt a mild hitch in her breathing. “Did I break ribs, too?”

“Ribs, leg, punctured your femoral artery and bruised a kidney.”

Nat’s voice was hard and full of disapproval, but Franki ignored it in favour of sitting back up. “Shit.” She’s was going to be out at least three days before she was back to fighting strength.

“Forget that. What are you going to do about Bucky?” Nat said, poking her in the shoulder.

“Nothing.”

“You can’t just do nothing!”

The screech was enough to have her flinching. “Nat,” she sighed when the redhead glared at her. “I think I have embarrassed myself enough for one lifetime.”

“It is a _soft name_! You know the others all want one.” It was a bone of running contention that only she and Clint, allegedly, had them.

“Nat… my mouth ran away with my brain. I told him _why_!” Franki almost wailed. Using her enhanced hearing to make absolutely certain they were alone before telling her friend all that had happened in the quinjet before passing out. Nat’s wicked smirk and glee filled giggle made Franki growl, “Not funny, Natasha! I practically mauled the man!”

“It’s hilarious!” Franki was never so vocal or so outgoing. She was very contained and to tell Bucky all she had, _wow_! But to _initiate_ touching… it was unheard of.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Franki sighed. “It was like my mouth had a will of its own that my fingers followed.”

“Well you did have a severe head injury at the time,” Natasha scoffed.

“Oh. Must have been when I was hit with that chair…” she trailed off at Nat’s look of exasperation. The agent had rung her bell with the blow causing her vision to swim but, like all injuries, she had powered on.

“Franki…” Nat sighed but refused to get sidetracked. “You should take a chance and talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”

“You know why I can’t.” Franki murmured, rubbing her temples. She didn’t have your traditional kind of headache, but there was pressure behind her eyes that was playing havoc with her vision. It was a stress thing, she knew, but it didn’t make it any less annoying or easier to calm herself.

“Franki, you won’t know you can’t tolerate his touch if you never try.” Retaking her hand, Natasha squeezed it gently. “You have grown used to my touch.” And she had no doubts that the petite brunette would handle Bucky’s just as easily. Most of her issues with the team seemed to stem from the mental phobia, not from actual physical discomfort.

“Yours is different.”

The softness, the whisper, hurt Nat’s heart. “Why?”

“Your touch is not sexual in nature.” Franki turned her face away, embarrassed. She’d grown up in the Red Rooms but had never gotten old enough for _that_ kind of training. And every touch she’d ever experienced afterwards had been to inflict pain, pain that she couldn’t feel though they kept trying. “I’m not even sure I can feel pleasure.”

Without hesitation, Natasha reached out and cupped Franki’s breast through her cotton gown, brushing her thumb over the other woman’s nipple. The brunette gasped, her mouth falling open in shock. “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.” Nat chuckled, drawing back her hand.

“What… I … what?” Franki was quick to cross her arms over her chest.

Natasha frowned at the strange reaction. “Franki, what do you know about sex?” Another bright red blush covered her milk-white skin and widened Nat’s eyes. “You’re kidding me?”

“I am familiar with the… _theory_ behind the process but I was not… _initiated_ ,” she murmured, wringing her hands. “And then I was in China. They were more concerned with pumping me full of that serum and teaching me to be an efficient killing machine. I could see the lust growing as I did, but, no one ever…” She shrugged. There had been that one time, but she had killed the man so quickly, his touch so foul, no one had dared try it again. Even drugged, she would grow feral at the slightest brush of her skin. It seemed the softer the touch, the more she fought. She didn’t want gentleness. Softness bred weakness. Weakness was death in the facility she had been in.

“Alright, alright. Okay.” Nat breathed out. “I can work with that. Come on.” Tugging on Franki’s hand, she helped her to her feet and into the robe at the foot of the bed. “We need a girl’s night. I’ll call Wanda in, too. She’ll want to help.”

“Help what? Do what? Nat?” Franki asked, puzzled, tying her robe closed. “And what about the boys?” They were all going to rip into her eventually. She kind of wanted to get it over with.

“I’ll deal with them.” Nat flicked her fingers in dismissal and wrapped her arm around Franki’s waist, gripping a little tighter when the woman stumbled. “Let’s get you settled on my couch.”

They hobbled towards the door, doing their best to keep the pressure off Franki’s cast. She may not feel the pain, but her body was still working to fix her. They didn’t need to do more damage or slow the healing process. They’d made it to the elevators before one of the boys caught them.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s out of bed.” Tony’s smug voice called out.

“Not now, Stark,” Natasha growled as the doors slid open.

“And why not? I have a few things to say to little miss Francessca that keeps making me restock my med bay.” Striding forward, he ignored the look from Nat, glared at the two of them, and finally focused on the pale face of the woman he was annoyed with. “Oh for god’s sake,” he huffed before giving Nat a shove and lifting Franki into his arms. “You’re a stubborn little fool.” Tony griped.

“Bite me,” Franki snarled, gritting her teeth together. She tried very hard not to shudder, but his touch made her want to throw a punch so badly. “Put me down, Tony.” She didn’t have enough layers on for this. Her uniform was different, offering its own sort of protection, but in day to day life she spent the majority of it covered up unless Tony was throwing another party, in which case Nat wouldn’t allow her to go in less than a body-baring dress.

“I know your issues, kid. You’re going to suck it up and deal until we get you where you’re going. Or would you rather I call the metal man to cart you around?” he asked smug smirk and raised brow making him look more arrogant than usual.

“Tony,” Franki couldn’t contain her shiver a second time but had no time to protest further when he stepped into the elevator with Nat who hit the button for their floor. The pressure was building in her chest as the warmth of his arms seeped through her clothing. “I need you to put me down.” She didn’t want to hurt him but she would, soon, unable to stop herself if he didn’t.

“Tony,” Nat could see the sharp panic beginning to fill Franki’s face.

Silver eyes were slowly going glassy. “Franki, focus on my voice,” Tony murmured, well aware she was halfway to a panic attack. “Look at me and take a deep breath, follow my breathing.”

He was exaggerating the inhale and exhale, forcing his chest in and out against her side, and she latched on to the moment of distraction, staring into brown eyes filled with more understanding than she’d ever given him credit for. Closing her fist in his t-shirt, she breathed with him until the doors slid open and he followed Nat to her suite where he placed her quickly on the sofa and sat on the coffee table before her.

Rubbing her arms, Franki refused to look at him, embarrassed to react so to a teammate that wouldn’t ever try to hurt her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Looking to Nat standing guard over the small woman, Tony sighed. No matter how badly he wanted to yell at Franki for being stupid and reckless, she looked like a kicked puppy. Much too pale and so very young. He felt old just sitting there. “Franki,” he murmured, reaching out slowly to lightly touch her chin. She jerked against his fingers, and it hurt his heart. Yes, the one Sam and Scott teased that he didn’t have. “Hey, kid. I know all about panic attacks. You ever want someone to talk to, come and find me.” Standing up, he nodded to Nat and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Was Tony Stark just… _nice_?” Franki asked in shock.

“Yeah, yeah he was.” Natasha smiled after him. She’d thank him for that later. Picking up her phone, she called Wanda to join them and began gathering snacks and drinks, and everything they would need for a girl’s night in. While she was in her small kitchenette, she texted Clint, telling him to keep everyone off Franki’s ass for the night and to warn the others they’d have to go through both her and Wanda to get to the other woman if they tried. He sent back a smiley emoji and nearly made her snort. Clint had an obsession with emojis.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Russian that may or may not be correct. Mild sexual content.

## Chapter Three

* * *

The next morning after having indulged thoroughly in Nat’s wine, Wanda’s chocolate, and an excessive amount of embarrassing talk of a _highly_ inappropriate nature, Franki woke to find herself wrapped around Natasha in her ginormous bed with an incredibly warm Wanda pressed against her back. She was the middle meat of a female sandwich that had come to fruition thanks to too much alcohol.

Unlike the two giant beasts that called themselves super soldiers, her small frame and serum had not given her the advanced metabolism that allowed her to burn through the alcohol as fast as she drank it. Food yes, liquor no. She could get drunk, ridiculously so, but at least she always woke up hangover free. However, this had led to her current predicament in which she was stuck between the two women, and slowly beginning to panic.

Nat was fine. Nat was normal. Nat had become almost an addiction for she was the _only_ one that didn’t cause her skin to react, or that innate sense of panic to form in her chest.

Wanda was not Nat.

“ _Blesk_ , I need you to let go,” Franki murmured, gently nudging the woman, not wanting to offend but needing out of bed right _fucking_ now. When Wanda stirred but only tighten her grip, the mild panic became full-blown terror. “OFF!” Franki screamed, shoving with all her strength, far harder than she meant to, sending Wanda back first into the wall opposite the bed.

The woman hit with a deafening crash, red waves of power rising around her before she snapped open her eyes and took in her surroundings. “Oh, oh, god…” Franki murmured, hands to her mouth as Natasha sat bolt upright, gun in hand, and Vision materialized through an adjoining wall, his concern piqued with the rise of Wanda’s powers. “ _Blesk_ … I am… I am… so sorry… so sorry… so…”

Franki’s breath was coming in fits of gasping that Nat knew meant a full-blown meltdown was imminent. “Franki, Wanda’s alright. Aren’t you, Wanda?” she asked just to make sure, having been on the receiving end of that push herself once or twice and got a nod of agreement.

“What happens here?” Vision asked calmly, crouching beside Wanda before peering in confusion at Franki. “Francessca?”

“Sorry, so sorry…” The door to Nat’s room banged hard against the wall as Steve, Sam and Bucky raced in, guns in hand, having followed after the concerned Vision. Their arrival made her flinch backwards and run into Nat. The flesh to flesh contact was more than she could take, and Franki scuttled away to the headboard where she curled her knees to her chest and panted. A constant stream of _sorry’s_ spilled incessantly from her lips and she was finding it very hard to breathe.

“Nat?” Steve asked, looking between the three women, finally settling on the redhead in the bed for an explanation.

“Slumber party got a little… _cuddly_. She was doing fine until she woke up.” Scooting closer to Franki, Natasha stopped instantly when panicked silver eyes swept her way. They were nearly icy with dread, and she held up her hands. “Franki, we talked about this last night. We wanted to help you, remember? You agreed to this. We were good.” The three of them had crashed together, each with their own blanket, to help Franki get used to people randomly touching her.

“Wanda… wrapped… too much contact….” Franki gasped, looking to the scarlet haired woman that continued to sit with Vision.

“Oh, Franki,” Wanda whispered sadly, reading the other woman’s thoughts easily. “This is all my fault.” She’d always been one to latch on to her bedmate.

“No… no… no…” The panic was too great. There were too many people staring at her. She felt like a freak, a fool, a… _failure._ “Me… it’s me. It’s always me.” Leaping from the bed, starling the guys into jumping out of the way, Franki ran out the door, careened into the wall when her feet slipped and headed down the hallway.

“Is she _running_ on that leg? On her _broken fucking leg_!?” Bucky bellowed, staring at the air cast left beside the bed.

“Barnes!” Natasha snarled. “Leave her be.”

“No,” He snarled right back. Slapping his gun into Steve’s chest, he turned on his heel and chased after Franki. There was only one place she would go when she was this upset. The same place she always went. The pool.

“I want an explanation,” Steve snapped, turning back to Nat and Wanda, both now sitting sheepishly on the edge of Nat’s bed. Neither was dressed in any way that he would consider _appropriate_ for a debriefing, a realization that made him clear his throat and turn swiftly around, “Er… once you’re dressed,” he mumbled, stalking from the room.

Sam grinned at them both until Vision stepped into his line of sight, effectively cutting off the view. “I’m going. I’m going.” Sam chortled, raising his hands in surrender. “Three gorgeous women all cuddle up together. _Damn_! Should’a run faster.”

“Ladies.” Vision murmured, rolling his eyes at Sam’s back and shutting the door to Natasha’s room behind him.

“Natasha, I am so sorry,” Wanda murmured, turning to face her. They had all been very drunk. Perhaps this had been a really bad idea.

Shaking her head, Nat sighed. “No, it was the right call. Franki will see that when she calms down. Probably should have put her on the outside,” she muttered, but drunk Natasha was rarely well thought out. “She did make it through the whole night.” Nat smiled at Wanda. “It was only her surprise, the fact that she’d been stuck, that had her reacting so extremely.” Natasha had to believe their idea was a good one, a way to help Franki take a step forward, and not the setback it appeared. “Let’s go face the music,” she rolled her eyes, not at all concerned with Steve and his bluster.

Slamming through the door to the indoor pool, Franki took three long strides and dove straight in. The water closed around her, refreshing and comforting, cocooning her in silence and shutting down the panicky sensation. Floating in the abyss of blessed nothingness, she pressed her hands to her face and curled in on herself. Feeling the movement of her hair as it swirled around her, she prayed she might drown to escape the embarrassment of her mortifying morning.

When arms wrapped around her, dragging her to the surface, she sent a sharp elbow into the ribs of the person who held her and followed it with a swift backhand to the face as she broke the surface; one that never connected. Gasping for air, Franki struggled against the tight vice that had clamped around her wrist until the deep timber of a familiar voice cut through her swiftly returning panic.

“Francessca, breathe, _moya zvezdochka_ ,” Bucky murmured softly. Seeing her huddled beneath the surface of the water, curled up like a distraught child, had so broken his heart he’d slipped in after her to drag her to the surface so she could catch a breath.

“Let go!” He did, and she swam quickly to the edge of the pool where she pushed her sopping wet hair out of her face. Panting softly, Franki dug her nails into the lip of the pool and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to calm the pounding of her heart.

Quietly, Bucky called out, “Friday, full scan of Franki. What’s the damage?” It took a few seconds for the AI to finish before she started speaking.

“Francessca has compromised the break in her leg. It has cracked across the previous fractures. Her ribs have also taken significant damage from running into walls.”

Sighing, Franki rested her head on her arms, folded over the edge of the pool while she floated listlessly in the water. “Another day…” She’d be out of commission even longer now. 

Approaching slowly, aware that she was as skittish as a deer, Bucky watched her watch him warily from the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, _malyutka_. I won’t touch you.” She always responded better to the Russian than to his usual forties lingo.

He’d hated the Russian language he’d learned as the Winter Soldier. It was merely another way for Hydra to strip him of his identity, pull another layer of his American heritage from him, and he’d hated speaking it ever since.

Until Francessca. It was her native tongue, one she slipped into frequently, her accent growing heavy when something upset or disturbed her. She could sound as American as Captain America himself when she wanted to, but, at times like this, her heritage slipped in, made her voice husky, sensual, a sound he adored that drew him to her. A moth to her brilliant flame. And he pulled that hated language to the surface, for her, for it calmed her considerably when he did.

For her, he could do it.

For her, he would do almost anything.

Turning her face into her arms, Franki took a shaky breath. He said he wouldn’t touch, but he kept coming closer, treading water a few feet away. The water was soothing. A single layer of uniform pressure, no different than her bodysuit. “Is Wanda alright?”

“She was fine,” Bucky murmured, metal fingers closing gently on the pool wall a few inches from her elbow. “I’m more concerned with you.”

She snorted softly into her crossed arms. “Oh, I’m fine. Fucked up, but fine.”

“We’re all some level of fucked up, doll face. Hell, look at me.” He’d been a whole basket of screwed before his time in Wakanda. Even now he still had his moments. Nights when he fought the monsters and the demons in his memory; when the nightmares took him.

Sighing softly, she peeked out at him floating much closer than he had been. “Least you can let people touch you.”

“Not always,” he told her honestly. “Not back when I first started to remember who I had been. Steve was the only one.”

Turning her head so she could see him with both eyes, Franki murmured, “How did you do it?” It made her curious for, though she’d heard things about him from his time in Wakanda, and what Hydra had done to him, he’d seemed relatively well adjusted since the programming for the Winter Soldier had been negated. He had rarely spoken of his issues to her.

Bucky shrugged, “Little things. Nat’s affectionate, she hugs. Wanda was a glancing brush down the arm. Sam shoulder bumps and Tony nudges with his elbow. They do these things so… subconsciously, you get used to them.”

“I can’t…” she whispered turning away from him, not wanting to see the pity. “Tony carried me to Nat’s room. Fifty-three and a half seconds. Twenty-nine breaths. Thirty-two steps. I nearly put my fist through his face. Wanda cuddled… _god_ … _cuddled_ me and I lost my damn mind.” Water shifted, splashed against her, and she immediately stiffened. “Bucky?”

“Relax, I’m not touching you.” He shifted, so he floated behind her, arms caging her against the wall but he kept distance between them. After what she’d said on the quinjet, he wasn’t letting her get away from him until he figured out if it had been her speaking her feelings or the head injury making her say things she really didn’t mean. “Turn around.”

She didn’t want to, afraid of what she’d see in his eyes, on his face, when she did, but he was a stoic force that she knew had the patience of a glacier, immovable, and would refuse to let her leave until she did as he wanted. Sighing, she spun slowly, keeping her grip on the wall and keeping as close to it as she could. Her eyes landed on his chest. His t-shirt stuck to him above the water line and floated out towards her beneath it, allowing for a strip of flesh to peek out the bottom.

Letting her eyes travel up, they hesitated on a droplet of water, following it as it streaked down his neck and disappeared into his shirt collar. More droplets glistened in the scruff of his morning beard, beaded on his upper lip, dripped from the tips of his shoulder-length hair, and hung in the lashes that framed his crystalline eyes. The brilliant blue was piercing, holding her in place, but there was no pity in them. They were filled with kindness, understanding, and something she hadn’t seen very often… hope. “Bucky?” she whispered, uncertain what it all meant.

“Touch me,” he murmured, eyes falling to her lips but no further. He’d gotten a glimpse of the pajamas she had on, small, tight, curve-hugging and nearly shear in the water. He didn’t need the second glimpse to fill his nights with fantasy, not when the image was already ingrained.

“Wh-what?” she stuttered, eyes popping wide.

“You don’t like being touched. It takes away your control of the situation, so, touch me instead. Take control, use it. I won’t move, doll.” No matter how fucking hard it was. “You can do as you please and I promise not to touch you.”

She opened her mouth to protest, refuse, but his shirt floated up against his chest, and tantalizing glimpses of tanned flesh had her biting her lip. She’d never touched a man, not like this. Not because she wanted to, was invited to. Sure she’d thrown an endless number of punches and kicks, spilled the blood of thousands and killed at least a few hundred, but she’d never _desired_ to touch. Not like this. Not soft touches. “Softness is equal to weakness,” she whimpered, eyes hung up on the flesh distorted by the water.

“That’s bullshit Hydra programming, Franki. You and I both know it.” Bucky growled, watching the silver of her eyes darken into a steely grey, a flush filling her cheeks most pleasingly. “ _Moya zvezdochka,_ take back what was taken,” he coaxed. Pulling his hand slowly from the wall, he carefully peeled his shirt from his body, guiding it over the metal arm that held him stationary, giving her unrestricted access to his skin. When her lips parted, a sensual moan falling from them and her eyes partially closed, he knew she was as captivated by him as he was her. Her words from the other day couldn’t have just been her slightly scrambled brain. Now, if only he could pry his soft name from her lips.

Returning his hand to the wall, keeping her there between his arms, he placed his shirt up on the ledge. He was afraid to throw it in case the sound of its wet landing broke her from this sensual trance, and he was very careful to make sure no part dangled in the water in case it brushed against her accidentally. He would not break this small show of trust for anything. “Touch me, Franki. _Please_.”

Something about his voice made her head spin, and she lost all resistance. Tentatively, hesitating every few inches, she reached towards the skin that so beckoned her. The wet on it made it glisten, and her mouth went bone dry begging for a taste. It shocked her for she _wanted_ to slide her tongue over all that gorgeous flesh, taste every inch of what he offered, something that had _never_ happened before, but she only pressed the tips of her nails to his bulging pectoral. It twitched slightly, and she flinched but didn’t draw away. He was so warm, much warmer than the water, and she wondered what it would be like to press against him without armour and uniforms between them. Her outfit made her feel strong, protected. Like this, she was vulnerable, uncertain of herself. But her skin was humming, _humming_ as if it craved contact with this incredible man.

Flattening her hand, she trailed it over taught flesh, tracing the outlines that defined each individual muscle and slowly opened up with the contact. “I know nothing of soft touches. Only brutal ones. Ones that are expected to elicit pain. Hard blows that knock you across the room, demanding that you stay down, but that is not my way. I _fight_ , _snegopad_ , because it is what I know. I jump when perhaps I should wait because…” She swallowed past the lump in her throat, “Because… it still seems unreal to me that I have comrades I can depend on.”

“Franki–” He began, but the hand that had been holding the ledge behind her was suddenly pressing fingers to his lips. He was sure his eyes showed how angry that sentence made him, but he kept silent when she released his lips, trailing her fingers along his cheek and down to wrap lightly at the back of his neck where it toyed softly with his hair. It was only then she released the tight grip she’d taken on his shoulder, keeping her buoyant but away from him.

“I was all alone in that place. No one watched my back. It was everyone for themselves, or they would gang up against me. I was the best, and I was hated for it. When I was young, I refused to comply, would not do the missions, and often failed to complete the tasks set for me. I would not be Hydra’s pawn and often defied them.” Her fingers walked the distance across his collarbone. “I wanted them to kill me, preferring death to the hell I was living. I almost succeeded once. They put me in a room with another of your kind. He was not the Winter Soldier, but he was almost as good.”

Shocked, he could only stare at her, her eyes never lifting from where they followed her fingers. “How… why?” he asked.

“Death would have been a welcome escape after so many years at their mercy, but, I heard them talking, the foolish Chinese, as if Mandarin was an unknown language,” she snorted softly in derision. “They spoke of the _Black Widow_ , a name I knew and of _Captain America,_ one I did not, but, the more I listened, the more I understood. I knew she fought with the ones called the Avengers, had turned to a different side, and if I could wait long enough perhaps, they would find the Hydra base I was in. They were working their way ever closer after all. But I had… _miscalculated_ my previous petulance.”

Her fingers crossed over to the opposite pectoral, trailing up to touch his scars, and he swallowed rather hard to keep the groan from escaping. “How so?”

His voice had dropped to a deep timber, husky, and his temperature had risen. All signs of arousal. Perhaps, even with all her crazy, he could – maybe – like her, too. “I had been exceptionally defiant for a few months when they put me in the room that day. The one waiting for me, his eyes were dead inside,” Something she couldn’t imagine ever seeing in Bucky’s face. “I knew it was perform or die, so I performed.”

One did not just _walk away_ from an enhanced super soldier like him. “How bad?” She looked away, and he had his answer, but he pushed her anyway, needing to know. “How many days were you in the infirmary, Franki?”

Sighing softly, tracing her fingers down his breastbone, she murmured, “Twelve.”

The tiles beneath his metal hand cracked loudly causing her to startle. “Easy. Easy, _malyutka_.”

The sound practically vibrated between them and made her gasp softly before continuing. “When I healed from all the internal and external damage without a single scar I became interesting again. It became the _thing_ to do. Beat me until I could not walk, not an easy feat when I would aggressively resist, and see how long it took for me to heal. The others took great pleasure in this, but, still, the scientists could not decipher my genetic code. I was a mystery for every sample they took deteriorated quickly. I had to be alive for them to collect new ones. Overnight I went from being Weapon F to subject 7.” Sighing, feeling the waves of hatred wash from him, she lightly touched his upper most abdominals. They were so… _hard_ it was astounding. “So you see, _snegopad_ , my experience with people is… limited. It is difficult, even after almost a year, to trust there is someone who has my back. I know you are there, but in the heat of the moment I simply… do for myself.” And everyone had jobs to do. Why should they be dragged away to save her when she could, _usually_ , save herself.

Bucky inhale and exhaled, tried to take in all she said, sighing with how painful it had been to hear, but it helped him understand her a little better. She’d said more to him in the past forty eight hours than she’d said in months. “Jeez, doll… rip a guy’s heart out why don’t yah.”

“What?” Eyes darting up, she found deep blue pools of sorrow.

“You go and tell a guy all that and he can’t even hug you? It’s cruel,” he murmured, trying to keep his tone light though his heart was broken.

A twitch pulled at his lips and she relaxed a little, her palm flattening to his stomach. “You tease me, _snezhinka_?”

“Snowflake, now? Damn, doll. Cut a guy a break,” he chuckled, only to nearly grunt when her nails pressed into his stomach.

He was trying to help her, lighten things, make her feel better and she was drawn to him even more for it. “Bucky?” she whispered, floating barely inches from him, much closer than when she’d started.

“Yeah?” he breathed out just as softly, aware on a certain level that she was much closer than before.

She wanted so badly to be normal, _feel_ normal. To have normal relationships. To touch a man without fear, be touched without feeling like screaming, and to know what it felt like to kiss someone. She craved love, craved affection, but had refused to let herself do so because it had always seemed hopeless. How could one know love when touch was impossible? But now… with him… “Can I… can I… try something?”

“Anything, _malyutka_.” She could do whatever she wanted as long as she wasn’t running from him.

His blue eyes were nearly sapphire pools when she peered into them. “Don’t… don’t move… okay?”

“ _Da_. You have my word,” he vowed.

Lifting her hand slowly from the water, Franki placed it gently against his cheek. The stubble there tingled but didn’t make her skin want to crawl. It hummed again, buzzing with the contact, and she crept a little closer.

Her eyes drifting down to his lips caused every cell in his body to inhale and hold perfectly still. Would she? Could she? _Do not grab her. Do not grab her. Do not grab her._ He chanted the mantra like a prayer, forcing himself to stay calm, relaxed, and still when he was anything but.

“A soft touch…” she whispered, “A soft touch is not weakness…”

His heart ached for her. “Not weakness…” he whispered back. “Pleasure…” he coaxed, eyes falling to lush red lips. He had often thought she was a living rendition of Snow White, a movie he had seen before the war when it had first come to theaters. Hair of dark chestnut was the only deviation from the story of milk white skin and red lips.

“Pleasure…” Nat seemed to think she could feel it, so did Wanda whose snooping mind had unlocked dreams that were too embarrassing to speak about aloud. Three bottles of wine later and she’d described them in detail to Nat’s smug satisfaction and Wanda’s sly grin.

He held himself perfectly still as her lips closed the distance until they pressed feather light to his. Fire erupted in his core with the simple brush of skin and he moved only enough to tilt his head and press a bit firmer, kissing back gently.

Bit by bit she deepened the kiss, finding the taste of him intoxicating in a way wine had never been. A quiet moan slipped from her when the shiver streaked her body to center in her abdomen. Parting to breathe, she panted a little and latched eyes with Bucky. “Oh,” she whispered, fingers flying to her tingling lips. “My first…”

“Yeah.” He could tell and it made him so damn hard. Her innocence was drugging and the tiles beneath his hands had cracked further with his determination not to grab her and never let go. “Again, _moya zvezdochka_?”

_My star_. He’d called her that earlier, and _little one_ as well, neither of which she minded. “ _Da, snegopad_ ,” she breathed against his lips, unaware that she wrapped her arm behind his neck and pulled herself flush to his chest until warmth began to seep into her chilled body.

The second kiss was a little fuller, a little firmer, still so very innocent, and he reveled in it. Relished the press of her soft body to his. The way her skin felt against him. Wanting to push her a bit but not spook her, he gently flicked his tongue against her lips and was pleasantly surprised when they parted on a breathy sigh. Nipping gently, he tugged her lip between his teeth before slipping his tongue slowly into her mouth. She froze for but a second before fingers were threading through his hair and her frame was pressed even harder against him. _Dear, sweet Jesus!_ She was killing him _._

Tingles of sensation erupted all over her skin, on every plane and surface that touched his. It had never done that before, accepted another’s contact so willingly. But Bucky had never touched her directly before either. They sparred occasionally. He’d carted her around a few times, but she’d always been fully clothed. This was so very _different_. “ _Snegopad_ ,” she sighed when his lips moved to her jaw. “Touch me.”

His heart stuttered. “Really?” he asked, stunned, pulling back enough to see her face.

“Unless… you don’t want to?” she teased quietly.

Silver eyes held both uncertainty and amusement, a wickedly enticing combination. “Which hand, Franki?”

“Both…” She moaned, “You’re touch… I need it.” His hands were suddenly on her, cool metal and hot flesh, legs tangling as he gave a push to the wall that had them floating towards shallower water where he could plant his feet and keep them from going under.

“You will tell me if it gets to be too much, _malyutka,_ ” he purred the words near her ear, hardly daring to believe this was happening after wanting her for so long.

“ _Da_ , Sergeant,” she quipped softly, unable to focus much at all past the feeling of his hands on her back. Blind eyes stared towards the ornate ceiling above the pool, lost to the sensation of hot and cold trailing across her spine. They both burned through her, pleasure so profound she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out.

Satin camisole and little lace edged shorts were hardly a barrier to his wandering hands, but he kept the touches innocent. Slow, soft touches. Gentle movements across skin grown warm, flushed red where they made contact, as if her blood rushed to the area in response to his call. Chest deep in the water, feet planted wide and the woman he adored hanging from his neck, Bucky found a new piece of himself. A tender piece he’d thought lost to the trauma of his past. A piece that wanted to show this sweet, adorable, slightly broken woman that not all touch was bad.

While his metal hand closed on her waist, holding her gently against him, the flesh one drew fingers up her spine. Splayed out, covering more of her skin that way, she could feel the tip of his middle finger dance slowly up her vertebrae, touching each small protrusion before moving on to the next. Groaning, Franki arched her body into his, luxuriating in the sensation, shuddering hard when gentle lips suddenly pressed to her throat. “ _Ya mechtal ob etom dne vsyu svayu zshisn_.” She had dreamt about this day all her life. “ _Y_ _a tebya chuvstvuyu, ya tebya chuvstvuyu, s_ _negopad,”_

_I can feel you, I can feel you, snowfall…_ She had dreamed of touching, of being touched and her voice cried out, joy and disbelief warring together. Lifting his head, his slowly journeying hand coming to rest at the base of her skull, cradling her head in his large palm, Bucky looked down into the shocked and elated eyes of the woman who held his heart and smiled. “ _U teb’a prelesnye hlaza.”_ Her eyes were so beautiful, even with the tears that dripped from them. Her body quaked, shivering from the intensity of the emotion washing through her and he slowly lowered his head to lightly brush their lips together. _“_ _Moya zvezdochka_ , you knocked me on my ass the moment I met you.” Slowly, he brought his metal hand up out of the water to gently caress her cheek. The new sensation had her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips parting on a soft gasp. “Franki, I’ve wanted to ask for a while, longed to ask and always chickened out, but now, would you be my girl?”

Her eyes snapped open to stare up at him in wonder. Again that simple emotion, hope, hung in his eyes. “Bucky, I am a whole bag of screwed up,” she whispered, toying with the hair her fingers had tangled in. “Just because I can take your touch _today_ , doesn’t mean I will be able to stand it tomorrow.”

“Then let’s empty the bag, doll. One object at a time until you find yourself again. Let me help you.” Drawing his finger over her cheek, a soft whimper spilled from her throat, and he tenderly kissed her lips. “I can be a very patient man,” he whispered, tracing his lips across her jaw. “Besides, can’t you feel it, doll? Your body cries out for mine. Your skin aches for my touch. It flushes beneath my hand. It will not reject me tomorrow or any day in the future.” Some instinct in him just knew she was his to treasure.

He might be right, but he could also be so very wrong. If he was wrong, if, someday in the future, he reached for her and her skin crawled, it would break her heart so completely she thought she might die. “They are still looking for me…” Hydra had lost their experiment and didn’t take kindly to such things.

“They look for me, too, _malyutka_. We can take them down together.” Hydra would continue to try and get him back any chance they got. It was why he continued to live in the tower or the compound.

Teeth caught her earlobe and she was lost for a moment, stuck on the way each tug seemed to pull at something in her belly. A very pleasurable something. “ _Snegopad_ ,” she moaned quietly, clenching her fist in his hair.

“Say it again,” he coaxed, nearly pleaded, before nipping at her pulse beating so fast in her throat.

“ _Snegopad_ …” she sighed, pulling her body flush to his again.

“Say you’ll be mine,” he murmured, “My best girl.  Let me help you, protect you, be with you, Francessca.” When she hesitated still, he breathed against her ear, “ _Ya veryu v tebya.”_

_I believe in you…_

A broken inhalation, a gasp of emotion, a wonder filled cry escaped Franki’s lips. No one had ever said such things to her before. “ _Da…_ _ya tvoya devushka._ _”_

_I am your girl_. Bucky breathed out against her before lifting his head and capturing her mouth, drawing her closer until their flesh melded together. His tongue darted over her lips, slipped between, twisted and danced with her untrained one, stroked it firmly and sucked it gently when she made a tentative foray towards him. A wicked groan built in his chest, one that had to be released when her teeth lightly sank into his lip. She appeared to be a fast learner.

His arms had tightened, caged her against him, and she had a wave of overwhelming sensation pound through her body. It was intense, unfocused, almost terrifying it was so strong. She had never felt anything like it and ripped her mouth from Bucky’s. “Stop!” she cried out, breath coming in little gasps and pants. His hands immediately released her and she swam to the edge of the pool.

Terror had filled her eyes, lightening them back to liquid silver and he felt his heart plummet. “ _Belosnezhka_ ,” he murmured, keeping his distance. “Was I too forceful, doll?”

A small chuckle escaped her. “Snow White, am I?” Waiting for her heart to calm, she breathed slowly at the water’s edge. “It was not you, Bucky. I… _feel_ and I am unused to the sensations your touch creates. It is… _good_ but potent.”

To go from feeling nothing to feeling everything must be difficult and a little frightening. Swimming closer, he kept space between them before softly touching her waist. A groan, wanton, full of desire, escaped her lips but he didn’t follow through on the need to simply take her right then and there and make her his. “We will go slow, doll. Promise. You take the lead and I’ll follow.”

“Really?” she whispered, astounded again. He was giving her all the power, all the control.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded, watching her intently. When she lifted her head from her arms at the pool’s edge, he watched her rare smile speared across those gorgeous lips. “I may have to kiss you spontaneously once in a while. Got to keep my dame on her toes.”

“Dame?” Her brow arched with his little pet name.

“No dame?” He smirked at her.

“Keep it up, _snegopad_ , and your soft name will permanently change to _snezhinka_ ,” she grumbled, swimming towards the stairs out of the pool.

“And just _where_ do you think you’re going, Franki?” His fingers lightly shackled her wrist, ready to let go if she needed him to.

“To my room,” she frowned. “I am wet and cold and in serious need of a shower.”

“You ain’t walking on that leg.”

“How else am I to return to my suite?” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Same way you got to the quinjet,” he scoffed, giving her hand a tug and scooping her up, sending water splashing in an arc.

Yelping, Franki drew her arms into her chest protectively when she found herself weightless against him. “Bucky… I…”

“Stop, doll face. Take a sec and get a feel for things,” Bucky muttered, looking down on the wet woman cradled in his arms. She was so stiff he thought her muscles would crack with the slightest jolt.

Holding herself very tightly, Franki allowed the feel of his arms to finally penetrate the growing wave of unease. One cold, one warm, neither made her skin crawl and she deflated, turning her face into his throat and unfolding enough to wrap her arms around him. “Oh, thank god. I thought…”

Her breath hitched and he turned his head to lightly rub their cheeks together. “No dice, _malyutka_. You’re stuck with me.” He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but, he too, had been a little worried that touching her was going to be a onetime deal. Now that he was sure it wasn’t, she wasn’t getting away that easily.

Sighing, a small smile tugging at her lips, Franki asked, “Are you going to say things like _nifty_ and _dreamboat_ now?”

“You making fun of me, doll?” he chuckled, heading for the stairs with his precious cargo.

She hummed softly, “Well, you _are_ rather old.”

“Don’t push your luck, _cookie_ ,” he grumbled but grinned when she giggled softly. “There’s a sound that makes my day.”

“Hm. You are easily pleased,” she snickered, resting her chin on his shoulder. Wide, muscled, and slick with water, her brain was smacked out of the way by her suddenly active libido. Something she didn’t even know she had until arriving at the tower and awakening from a most… _curious_ dream. Giving in to temptation, she licked at the expanse of skin before purring like a cat. A little salty from the saline water of the pool, he tasted like he smelled. Like winter in Siberia. A bit smoky with a sharp bite.

“ _Moya zvezdochka_ ,” He groaned, hesitating on the steps. “You make me want to rush you when you do such things.”

Sighing, knowing she truly wasn’t capable of more than what they’d done, Franki curled closer, leaning her head on his shoulder. “ _Snegopad.”_

Apology laced her quiet voice and he hummed softly, walking out of the pool, feeling the weight of his soaked sweatpants drag down and hang precariously low on his hips. Thankfully the knot was tight and they didn’t shift any lower when he headed for the shelves that held the towels. Setting Franki down on a lounge chair, he went to grab three from the shelf only to turn around and freeze in place. Her eyes were wide, glazed, and staring. It took a second before he registered what she was staring at. Her eyes wandered over his chest and down to hold on his abs. _The joy of being a super soldier._ He gave a smug grin. The serum gave him a body he didn’t really need to work for.

Both he and Steve had physiques that had been likened to the gods, a comment that set Thor laughing for all the Asgardians had such bodies so the blonde behemoth could see the truth in the comment. And, though they trained excessively, it was less about keeping their shape and more about working off some of the less known side-effects of the serum. It made them antsy. The need to move and fight was a constant itch that was only satisfied when they were beating the hell out of something, usually each other, because they could take it to the body with greater intensity.

The only other outlet was sex and sex wasn’t something he took lightly. Sure back in the day he’d been a ladies man, or so Steve had teased him, but a lot of that life was still dark and would, likely, stay that way. And, since becoming the Winter Soldier, he had not had a woman. Those seventy years had been about killing and nothing more, and, though they had left him _intact_ , he knew it was only so someday they could have used him as stud to create another generation of soldiers. That thought sickened him, but, as he remembered each and every mission he’d ever carried out for Hydra, he knew fucking some woman was not something he’d been required to do.

After, once he was free from Hydra’s control, the last thing he’d wanted was to get some poor dame mixed up in his mess. Physical desire had also been lacking until the day silver eyes had swung his way. The stirring of his body had been so unexpected, he’d nearly panicked. Nearly, but he held it together.

Now, he woke with what Sam had crudely termed _morning wood_ on a daily basis, all because he dreamed of gorgeous white skin and sparkling silver eyes. She was a siren, a beautiful dame who he intended to keep for himself and would do whatever it took to help her. But, seeing her flushed features and slightly agape mouth made him grin a little smugly. “See something you like?”

His sweats rode so low, she could see the very upper edge of his buttocks when he’d walked towards the towels. All that smooth flesh over flexing muscle. He moved like a cat, lithe grace and silent feet, each step a lesson in pure unadulterated power. But, when he’d turned back, hesitated, was when she’d discovered a most pleasing view. How could one man be so sculpted?

Everything just… _rippled_.

Again his sweats dipped low, barely catching on his hipbones, leaving little to the imagination with how they clung to him. The cut line of his Apollo’s Belt looked as if it was carved from stone and each ab was a defined section of pronounced strength. Pectorals flexed when he crossed his arms, arms that were so strong she felt weightless in them.

He had the body of a god. It was, “Gorgeous…” Including the shining silver arm.

Her breathy sigh had him pacing towards her. Slow, determined steps towards the petite woman, her hair a mass of wet curls that fell around her, hiding much of her from his eyes. But her legs, those splendid gams of pale flesh had his hands itching to touch. Stopping before her, he slowly knelt at her feet. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, lightly trailing a finger down her leg. “Just look at this skin. It begs for touching.”

Gasping, she watched in awe as the thick finger skimmed her shin in a feather light caress. “That feels…”

“What does it feel like?” he coached gently, wanting her to talk to him.

“Like… like when the sun touches me…” She burned easily so her time tanning was limited, yet, when she laid out with Nat, the heat was amazing. Besides, her skin just reverted to her pale shade within hours after exposure so there was little point in trying to tan.

“Do you like it, _malyutka_?” he asked, closing his fingers around her ankle. The thing looked so small in comparison to his hand.

“Yes…” Nothing had ever pleased her more. “Bucky…”

Sultry and laced with her accent, her voice drove him forwards and he leaned cautiously, slowly down to press a gentle kiss where her break was healing. Her light gasp had his eyes darting up to find hers closed and her teeth in her lip. “Breathe, Franki.” Sitting back, he carefully wrapped her in one of the extra-large towels, covering her small frame completely, before moving around behind her.

Collecting the heavy mane of hair in his hand, he gently began to dry the curls with soft pats and scrunches. Her hair was her crowning glory and he loved it, but he was having a hard time drawing his eyes from her legs.

He’d been correct. Her skin was softer than the softest kitten and when he’d kissed it, the scent of frost and vanilla had saturated his senses. But it was the cherry red toes he was having a hard time ignoring. “I see why the cast had to come off, doll. Those are some swell nails.” They matched the ones on her hands.

“Nat did one side and Wanda did the other,” she sighed, slumping a little. “I was doing so well. By the third bottle of wine, her touch on my hand and foot only made me shiver a little. It was why I agreed to that crazy idea. Three blankets, a huge bed, and I’ve slept with Nat before. What would it matter if we added Wanda? She’s my friend.” But even a friend’s caress could make her want to scream eventually. “I need to apologize. I could have really hurt her.”

“Wanda is not so easily damaged.” She was enhanced, she could take a little crash with a wall. And the mention of her sleeping with Natasha was so common, it rarely phased any of them. At one time, sure, it had pricked his ears and given him… _ideas_ ; he was male after all.

“Still,” Franki sighed. The way his hands worked with the towel on her hair and ever so gently over her scalp made her smile. “Is this what it is like to go to the hairdressers? I have never had a haircut but Nat says a scalp massage is to _die_ for. I always figured I would jump straight out of my skin.”

Dropping the towel on the lounger, Bucky slowly worked his fingers into the thick mass until he could softly circle his fingers over her scalp. A moan became a groan and she shivered. “Franki, I need you to talk to me.” He wasn’t Wanda who could just read what she was feeling.

“I don’t… I have never… oh god…” She’d never felt anything so incredible in her life! “Don’t stop…”

He chuckled softly but continued to slowly circle his fingers. When she was practically purring, her body lax and sagging, he pulled his hands free to her whimper of disappointment. She looked like she’d had a wild night and had woken up with the sexiest bed head. “Damn,” he swore softly when lazy silver eyes opened and looked up at him. “You’re so pretty.  When that leg heals up, can I take you out, Franki?”

A jolt of nervous excitement ran through her but she nodded slowly. “ _Da_. I would like that.” At least if she got overwhelmed in a public place, she could now back herself into Bucky and know there was one set of arms she could run to that didn’t make her want to lash out.

Using his own towel, Bucky dried off as best he could, wringing what water was left from his sweats, before picking her back up and heading out of the pool room. His shirt lay, still, beside the water but he could get it later.

In the control room of the tower, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision and Tony all had some form of smile on their faces. A few were smug, one a bit more teasing than the others, a few soft, one a little embarrassed at having watched his best friend coax a woman into kissing him in much the same manner as decades earlier, but all were genuinely happy for the pair.

“About damn time,” Natasha sighed, her smile huge. “I knew he wouldn’t be a problem.”

Wanda was nodding slowly before she frowned at the other woman. “But it _is not_ all in her head.” The Scarlet Witch held up her hands in apology. “Forgive me. Your voice was very loud, but Franki’s dislike of contact is not all mental. Her skin truly does react poorly to some. Some, yes, is the engrained fear that those who touch her will eventually try and hurt her, something that is impossible but still a very real fear for our Franki. Throughout her captivity, the _absence of pain_ , of any feeling, was all she ever knew. Now, these new feelings with Bucky are going to be very intense. She will need time to adjust. He cannot push her, Steve. You must warn him.”

“He won’t.” Steve shook his head. “Not Bucky. If you watched that, you’d know he would never.” There was no doubt in his mind.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony interjected. “What do you mean her _skin_ reacts?”

“I can feel it on her. Her skin… _crawls_ when the touch is… _foul._ Intense, disgusting, dislike. A Hydra agent had her by the throat once and her abilities just _… manifested_. Her strength increased, precision, focus, all of it tripled. She became something feral, dangerous. She was the supreme predator in the room until he was dead and we were off and running again.”

“So… what the hell does that mean for us?” Tony demanded, hurt that Franki had reacted so strongly to his assistance just the other day.

“With us, her reaction is the mental one. She fears the absence of pain. Touch for her always felt like… nothing. Imagine if you went your whole life feeling nothing, only to come here and suddenly touch elicits… _a reaction._ Not as strong as her reactions with Bucky, but still, there was _something_ were once there was _nothing_. Would that not scare you?”

Nat was pacing slowly, back and forth, her arms crossed as she thought it through. “She can feel us. That’s the difference.”

“Difference?” Steve and Sam said together, still a little confused.

Sighing, she turned to face the others. “I was angry when she woke up. Said a few things I have wanted to for a while but…” she shrugged. “One of the things I said was that I thought she was _trying_ to get hurt. But this, this makes so much more sense. The first time I touched her, she was having a nightmare. I took the same flight Wanda did, but after, she said my touch was different. The panic was there but the sensation took longer and longer to appear each time I hugged her or took her hand. Now, she will flinch, but I’m always really careful to touch her gently.”

“Yes. A soft touch. The soft touch can be felt, experienced, but the hard blow… _nothing_. It is why when she goes into battle and gets wounded she does not notice. Had Hydra known of this, _discrepancy_ in her mutation, they would have exploited it.” Wanda shook her head in wonder. “It is likely why they could not erase her memories. The machine works with intense pain. She would have felt _nothing_ , therefore it could do no damage. Factor in her healing ability and the thing was useless.”

“Well… damn.” Tony turned to watch the two Hydra damaged warriors make their way to Franki’s room. “We need to run some tests. If this is true, I can modify her suit. She still won’t feel pain, but I can at least help her notice when she’s hurt. Why didn’t Bruce catch this?” Banner had run a battery of scans on Franki after she’d arrived.

“He’s not been here to notice.” Nat scoffed softly before turning and leaving the room. Franki looked like she might need a hand, especially since Friday had informed them that she’d re-broken her barely healed fracture.

Steve watched her go, knowing that Natasha’s relationship with Banner was a complicated one. “I’m going to talk it over with Buck, but, I think we should all start accustoming Franki to our touch. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be hit repeatedly and never feel it. Slam into a wall and get nothing. To live your whole life with the absence of _everything_ and then come here and learn that you _can_ feel stuff. How hard must it be every time she goes into the field, wondering if this time she will feel it if a bastard agent gets in a lucky shot?” To be dead inside again for that short time, then, return to the compound where the lightest brush is suddenly so potent it makes you want to leap out of your skin.

“She was already growing accustomed to me last night. The wine helped.” Wanda smiled softly, turning with Vision. “Come, we will see how she does with you.” Vision had always been very respectful of Franki’s dislike of touching and had kept his distance.

“Sounds like we have a plan.” Steve nodded, glancing back at the monitors with a smirk. He couldn’t have been happier for his friend who had desired the small woman for so long and took such care with her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Russian that may or may not be correct. Mild sexual content.

## Chapter Four

 

* * *

Five days later Franki sat on the couch in the communal living room watching the team laugh and chat, the TV on in the background, and Steve’s hand sitting beneath hers. Steve’s idea had initially seemed so crazy but, after hearing the reasoning behind it, Wanda’s theory, and letting Tony run tests along with Doctor Cho, the results had been surprising. While Hydra had never been able to dissect her genetic code, or, figure out her mutation, Doctor Cho’s lab and equipment were top of the line, very advanced, and had managed to get much further before the samples degraded.

Her healing factor and inability to feel pain was, as expected, part of her mutation. As long as the tissue was in some way connected to her, it regenerated, but, once it was removed, it degraded quickly. However, when Doctor Cho had delved deeper into her genetics, they had found something surprising. Franki shouldn’t have been able to _feel_ much of anything. Soft, hard, pain, pleasure, nothing should have phased her, but, the serum had had a surprising effect. While it had wholly ignored her pain receptors, it had _enhanced_ her skins ability to feel light contact. It was why she preferred to be fully covered or submerged in the pool. The uniform pressure kept her from over stimulating.

Doctor Cho had been surprised that the Chinese had not figured this out but, after a few more questions, Franki had sighed and quietly explained to the Doc, trying to keep as few people as possible from overhearing, about her time in the Hydra base. They had kept them all barely clothed, the girls they’d taken, shorts and sports bra only, no different than how Steve had found her. This exposure had kept her skin constantly overstimulated, almost to the point of numbness, and she had grown used to it even though it was incredibly uncomfortable. Alone in a cell most of the time, it was only when _training_ , or towards the end when she’d been an experiment, that she had contact with others. Brutal contact. It was like they were trying to elicit a pain response and just kept hitting her harder and harder.

Even the scientists had been brutal. Grabbing, jabbing hands, unconcerned with her comfort because they knew she felt nothing. Their touch had been nausea-inducing, but she’d done her best to keep that information to herself. Whenever they came for her, she fought like a tiger until they beat her into submission. Bloody and bruised, it mattered little how they touched her because she was so dead inside nothing registered.

Doctor Cho’s horror had been apparent on her face, but Franki had just shrugged. It was what it was, and nothing could change her past. Once she’d been free to choose her own clothing, she had made sure it was long of sleeve and covered her completely, allowing her to escape for the most part the response of her skin.

With a little assistance from Bucky and Natasha, the only ones currently capable of maintaining physical contact for more extended periods, they had started to map her threshold, the place where feeling became nothing. Franki had found it all rather fascinating, especially the speculation on her ability to tell friend from foe directly through touch. It wasn’t exactly something she could test in the lab, and it remained just a theory for now.

So, here she sat, slowly breathing through the bubbling anxiety and need to wrench her hand away that filled her with the feeling of Steve’s fingers beneath her own. It helped that Bucky stood watching at the bar, his smile one of pride that she could focus on.

“You’re doing great, Franki,” Steve murmured, a smile on his face and in his eyes. Today was the first day she’d made it past the five-minute mark and hadn’t needed to pull her hand away.

“Thanks,” she said, distracted by the way Bucky licked the rim of his glass.

Glancing towards his best friend, Steve’s grin got wider with the knowing light in Bucky’s bright blue eyes. The man was providing a distraction for his nervous girl. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m thrilled that you and Buck are together. You both deserve to be happy.”

“Hmm, yes, happy,” she murmured, watching Bucky trail his fingers over the sweating surface of the glass.

Steve’s grin turned just slightly slyer with her distraction. “I like his soft name. Fits. Kind of makes me wish for one of my own.”

Bucky’s fingers just kept sliding up and down the wet edge. Up and down. Up and down. A caress she knew only too well. She knew his touch, little ones, light ones, ones that came to her hand or her arm, her shoulder or her shin. Always gentle. Soft. So careful. They were addicting. “Hmm?” She hummed, having missed what Cap had said.

“Soft names. I wish I had one.” He grinned, not at all upset she was ignoring him. They were pushing ten minutes, and she hadn’t shivered in the past four.

“ _Belyy rystar’,”_ she murmured.

“What?”

The shocked voice broke the spell she’d been under, and she darted startled eyes to Steve. “I-I… huh?” Franki made to pull away, but his fingers were quick to close around hers, sending a jolt of panic through her body. “Steve!” Her outraged squawk drew all eyes to her.

Instantly regretting the action, he immediately let go and held up his hands. “That’s on me, Franki. Sorry, but what did you call me?”

“Whatcha doing, _pal_?” Bucky nearly growled, arriving in front of them.

“It is fine, Bucky. Cap’s reaction was instinctive. I’m fine.” She was so embarrassed. Why couldn’t she just be _normal_ with them? These were her _friends_ for Thor’s sake!

A light flush coloured her face and had Bucky crouching down. “Hey, hey, hey, doll face. None of that now. You did real good, and not everything is going to change overnight.”

His hand caressed her cheek, and she sighed, the feeling one of sweet pleasure. “I know.” At least with him, she was fine.

“Now, you going to answer Cap’s question?” he grinned smugly at her.

Groaning, hand going to her eyes, Franki sighed, “ _Belyy rystar’_ ,” she said, “It means _white knight._ ”

“Really?”

The soft, breathy question was so unlike Cap that she glanced at him uncertainly. A smile was slowly growing into a massive grin, his blue eyes wide and sparkling, and she chuckled in surprise. “I take it you approve?”

“Heck, yah!” Steve smirked a crooked grin at Bucky.

Shaking her head, Franki got to her feet and turned to go. “Then that is all that matters. I am off to meet Peter. He is assisting me with something today.”

“Spider punk? What?” Bucky grumbled. “Why?”

He was suddenly on his feet and crowding her, causing her skin to hum gently with his closeness. “It is my first day back to training. I am officially cleared for duty and Peter, and I have been talking. He’s going to help me with a new move. Something that might make getting in and out of places easier.”

“Can I watch?” Natasha called out from the kitchen, grinning at the scowl on Barnes’ face. Ever since he and Franki had gotten together, he’d been a bit overbearing and seriously protective. She liked it on him, even when it got a touch annoying. Franki had never had someone care for her the way Bucky did, and it made Nat happy for her.

“ _Da_ , if you wish.” Franki shrugged.

“What move?” Steve asked, also curious.

“A pendulum swing,” Franki said, walking away to get ready.

“You sure that’s such a good idea, doll? You just got cleared for active duty,” Bucky cautioned only to be shot a narrowed, silver-eyed glare.

“Would you prefer I prove my recovery by kicking your ass, Barnes? I could oblige you if that is your wish,” Franki quipped.

“Oh! Them’s _fighting_ words!” Sam chortled, nudging Tony.

“She needs to test the new suit anyway,” Tony stated, sauntering closer. “Why not go a few rounds with sunshine here and then work with the spiderling.”

“Someone talking about me?” Peter asked, a wide grin on his face as he came through the door. It fell quickly when Bucky turned cold eyes his direction. “What I do? I just got here!”

“Nothing, Peter. You don’t worry about him.” She poked Bucky in the chest. “Stark, my suit?” Franki called on her way towards the door.

“In your room, _doll_.” He smirked at Bucky when the man glared at him. “What?”

“Stop encouraging her.” To anyone else that looked would have struck fear in their hearts. To his teammates, it simply made them laugh. “Ingrates.” Huffing, he stalked towards Peter. “You be careful with my woman, spider punk. Or else.”

“Yup! Uh huh! Whatever you say, Bucky!” Peter yelped, leaping out of the way and ending up halfway to the ceiling, hanging from the wall.

Stalking from the room, choosing to ignore the loud laughter behind him, Bucky followed after Francessca to her door and knocked firmly. “Franki?”

“I’m doing this, Bucky. Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy,” she called out, dragging the new suit up her body and shimmying her hips into it. It was a little stiffer than the last one, and she could see some of the modifications Tony had made in the mesh of wires that ran through the fabric.

Disliking yelling at her through the door, he tried the handle and walked in when it turned. “Look, baby, it ain’t that… I… don’t… want…” He had expected her to be in her bedroom, not standing in the sitting room, clothing strewn around her with her back to him, hair already tied up, her bodysuit only to her waist leaving her back and all that beautiful skin bare. “Wow…” he whispered, swinging the door closed behind him.

“So much for being a gentleman and turning around,” Franki stated, glaring at him over her shoulder.

He knew he should, really, but good god she was a gorgeous woman. The muscles of her back were sleek and toned, captivating, and he couldn’t help but stare. “Francessca…”

A small smile twitched her lips when she slipped her arms into the sleeves. “See something you like, soldier?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” Five days. Five days of soft touches and timid exploration. Five days of sweet innocence and drugging kisses. Five days was all it had taken to have him drowning in her and craving more. The suit came up, and she shrugged into it, covering her arms and shoulders, tugging it together in the front before he was able to find his voice again. “ _Malyutka,_ leave the zipper and turn around.”

“Bucky?” His hands were suddenly on her shoulders, his crossing of the room swift and silent.

“I would really appreciate it if you would leave the zipper and turn around,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky, sensual sounding.

A shiver traced her for his presence was heady. He was always so careful to make sure she was comfortable, unafraid with each step forwards they took, that, this time, to hear that growl like it was a command made her quiver in anticipation. He never demanded and the fact that this one time it had started that way, it aroused her greatly. Far greater than she had expected.

He was a good man, she knew this right down to her soul. He would _never_ hurt her, not ever, but to know she tested the control he was so careful of… it thrilled her.

Tilting her head, Franki looked up and back at him, arching just slightly with the move, and watched his blue eyes shift from her face to her front. She knew what he would see, the expanse of skin that flowed from her throat straight down to just below her navel. How her suit clung to the generous curve of her breasts, leaving the inner edge bare, and how her hands, covered with the suits half gloves, wandered the teeth of the zipper he’d asked to remain undone. Red nails trailed down to the tab and held there, waiting. “This zipper?” she purred.

Was the little minx teasing him? Her silver eyes danced with fire and desire. The little minx _was_ teasing him! Elated, Bucky moved slowly around to stand before her, his hands tracing down her arms to land softly on her waist. “You like teasing me, doll face?”

“ _Da_ ,” she cooed, smile spreading over her lips. “I really do.”

Grinning, he let his eyes trail over the gap in her suit, admiring the perfection of her sleek form. “Can I touch you, Franki?”

Another shiver streaked her spine, all heat and need. “I wish you would, _James_.”

_Fuck me_! He damn near groaned finding himself achingly hard. She never said his name and to hear it fall from her gorgeous lips left him breathless. Looking into her eyes, he slowly dropped to his knees before her. “You stop me if it gets to be too much, _Francessca_.”

“ _Snegopad_?” She had no idea what he was doing, but when his eyes fell from hers to focus on the patch of skin below her navel, she inhaled sharply. Then his lips pressed there, and she wallowed in the sensation of warm breath and sensually stroking tongue. “Oh, god. _Bucky_!” Her hands went to his hair when teeth pressed into her flesh.

“You okay, baby?” he chuckled, mouth not entirely lifting from her soft skin.

“I… _oh_!” She’d never felt anything like it. His hands always felt so good, their touch creating tingles and pleasurable waves of sensation, but this was so different. It was hot, his breath washing over her skin, then cold when his saliva caught the air, heat still gathered but it was much more intense, and slick wetness was pooling between her thighs. _“_ _Bozhe moi_ _!”_ she cried out, a plea to god.

_“Moya zvezdochka,_ ” he growled pressing his nose to her stomach and inhaling her frost and vanilla scent. “Talk to me.” Her hand was clenched tightly in his hair, but she wasn’t trying to drag his head away. If anything she was holding him there, mouth to her skin, keeping his lips dragging over exquisitely smooth flesh.

Throwing her head back, gasping, crying out in wonder, Franki moaned, “Don’t stop!”

Smirking against her stomach, Bucky swept his tongue over the sleek muscles of her abdomen, felt them clench in reaction, and could have purred with pleasure. She tasted like candy, like she was a sweet just for him, made for him. The hands at her waist shifted slowly to draw her closer as he kissed his way up her abdomen until he could press his nose between her breasts. The soft mounds brushed his cheeks, and he licked the underside and inner curve of what was bare.

Franki’s knees buckled.

Landing on his thighs, he held her against him while she panted. “Francessca?”

Slightly muffled, her name was a question that demanded an answer. He was giving her a choice. Stop or continue. Looking down, his blue eyes dark pools of arousal, she whispered, “Don’t stop…”

“Franki,” Her trust in him was humbling. Holding her gaze, he slipped his flesh hand between them and gently peeled her suit from her, baring her breast. Her lips parted on a soft exhale, a little gasp when the zipper rubbed her nipple, but he didn’t look away from her eyes. He wanted to see it, see her reaction the very first time he touched her so intimately. Slowly, he skimmed his mouth over the curve, the swell of soft skin until he neared the apex. Her heavy panting had increased, her flesh pinking with the flow of blood to the surface, and silver eyes darkened to steel as he watched.

He hovered there, warm breath washing over her nipple, causing it to swell in reaction. Unable to take the tension she whispered, “Bucky, _please_!” Moist heat closed over her, and she nearly screamed with the sensation, only just managing to contain herself to a quiet groan.

Her back bowed impossibly deep, and he growled with how fucking sexy she was. Blind eyes, parted panting lips, a flush darkening all her creamy skin, and an endless stream of nonsense Russian was pouring from her. Everything from pleas to a deity, to sweet moans, to soft swears, and some seriously dirty ones that he was astounded she even knew. Suckling on her gently, he was barely able to contain his own groan when her knees slipped from his thighs, one sliding between his legs and rubbing against his cock, the steel rod that had lodged itself inside his jeans. It was only the strength of his arm at her back that kept her up where he could keep his mouth on her breast, licking and flicking the hard bud of her nipple and sucking the velvet skin back into his mouth.

The tight coil that grew into life every time he touched her was so incredibly strong that she thought it would simply snap at any moment. “Oh, oh, _snegopad_!” Breath hitching, she tugged on his hair. “I don’t… I can’t… _Bucky!_ ”

With her panicked squeal, he instantly lifted his head and drew her closer, holding her against his chest with a gentle touch. “Shh, _malyutka_. I’ve got you, doll.” Her arms went around his neck, and he smiled against her throat for she no longer hesitated to touch him.

Resting there a moment, regaining the balance he’d stolen from her, Franki sighed and turned her face into his throat. Breathing in the smoky scent of his skin, she felt a little giddy, a little light headed and lifted up enough to whisper against his ear, “You quite overwhelm me… _James_.”

Her teeth found his earlobe and tugged shooting a bolt of desire straight to his overly insistent cock. Pulling back enough to see her face, he smirked at the smile that graced her lips. “You making a pass at me, Franki? Cause ya know, if in you are, I may just have to talk to HR or something about this harassment.”

That smile had been appearing more and more often on one James Buchannan Barnes’ face, and she was finding herself very fond of it, but she couldn’t let him get away with his teasing without teasing him back. She scoffed a little when she said, “Ease up there, mister. Why you bustin’ my chops already?” The look on his face had her bursting into peals of laughter.

She’d sounded like a dame from his old neighbourhood and shocked the shit out of him. “How the _hell_ did you do that?”

Continuing to chuckle, she gently cupped both of his cheeks and laid a smacking kiss to his lips. “It’s called the internet my dear Bucky. A little Googling of forty’s lingo and listening to you and Steve reminisce, it wasn’t _that_ hard to pick up.” Patting his cheeks with a bit more force than necessary, she pressed back and watched his eyes fall to her chest. It was only then she remembered her state of undress and made to right herself.

“Don’t!” Bucky entreated, grabbing her wrists. “Don’t hide from me,” he pleaded softly when she stiffened. “You’re so damn gorgeous.” Her thighs had clamped down on his to keep from sliding off his lap when he’d captured her wrists, an action that reinforced just how strong her legs truly were. Once she joined him in his bed, they would strangle him when he loved her, he was sure of it. “Don’t ever hide from me, baby.” Going slow, he released her wrist to press his flesh hand to her taut stomach. Sliding beneath the fabric of her suit, he caressed the silky skin up her ribcage until he could gently cup her pert mound. “You like that, doll?” A moan escaped her lips as her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Yes…” It was heaven his touch. So sensual it was captivating.                                 

“I could just touch you all day, sugar and never get enough.” But they had already surpassed her threshold once, and he wasn’t about to do it again, not when she was supposed to go play with the spider. Caressing the soft mound with its succulent rose coloured nipple one last time, he carefully drew her suit back over her chest and pulled up the zipper. The new suit ended at the hollow base of her throat, and he gently cupped her nape, arching her forwards to press a soft kiss to her thrumming pulse. “Take a deep breath, _moya_ _zvezdochka_. It’s past time we joined the others.”

Closing her fists in his shirt, she jerked him forwards and planted her lips on his. Tilting just slightly, Franki nipped his bottom lip, kissed him thoroughly until her lips felt swollen, and pulled back only when she could no longer breathe. His lips chased after hers, and she used her very special skill set to slip out of his grasp and across the room. “And whose fault is it we are late, Sergeant? Did I come barging into your room?”

Hands on her hips, she cocked an eyebrow at him that had him wondering just how she’d gotten all the way over there when she had so recently been right in front of him. “What’s your beef, sugar? I didn’t hear you complainin’.” Laughter danced in her silver eyes and a small smile twitched her lips.

“No complaints here, _Sarge_ ,” she threw over her shoulder, striding for the door. When a large metal hand landed on it above her head, Franki had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. “Something you need, soldier?” His opposite hand snaked around her stomach and jerked her back against him.

“Just a reminder, _malyutka_. You’re mine first before you get to play with Parker and if I don’t like how the session goes, I ain’t letting you try this cock-o-mammy scheme of yours.”

Her skin hummed where his breath washed over it, and she shivered minutely, but she wasn’t going to be deterred. It had been five days, and she needed to _move_. “You know I have the same needs as you and Steve. Why are you so pigheaded about this?”

He growled softly, tucking his face down in the crook of her shoulder. “I hate seeing you get hurt, baby.”

Sighing softly, she turned to face him and placed her hands on his chest. Just that small thing made her so happy, feel so… _normal_ , it nearly made her smile but his eyes showed how worried he was and she pressed up on her toes to kiss him gently. “I won’t tell you to stop worrying, _snegopad_. This is impossible for both of us. I worry for you every time you go out that door, but, Bucky, I cannot _not_ fight. I have the abilities, and I will use them to help the Avengers. This thing I do with Peter is meant to help keep me out of trouble, and yes, it is going to be tricky, difficult to get right, and I may fall a few times, but, that is why we practice. Is it not better this way? Figure it out now when I can have a soft landing rather than a bone-crushing one?”

Sighing heavily, Bucky leaned down to rest his forehead against hers and felt her strong arms wrap around his neck. “I… I can’t… I can’t lose you, Franki. Not know. Not after finding out how right it is to touch you, hold you, kiss you.” Pulling her in close, he held her tightly. “I think I’d go mad if I did.”

“Then I will make sure you never have to,” she vowed. When she pulled back, his eyes were damp and shadowed, and she knew his past was chasing him. Desperate to lighten the mood, she gave his shaggy hair a tug. “So, this soldier I know promised to take me out and show me off once I was all healed up.”

"He did, did he? You’d best point him out so I can kick his ass. No one takes out my best girl but me.” He grinned when she giggled. “Tell you what. If you can plant me on my butt, I’ll let you pick where we go for dinner.”

“Oh! You’re so going to regret that, Barnes!” Laughing softly, Franki grinned wickedly. “You’d best suit up, Sarge, cause I’m going to hand you your ass today!”

Wicked delight filled her face, and he opened the door only to find Wilson with his hand raised. “Birdbrain. What you want?”

Grinning broadly, Sam shook his head. “Caught the short straw to see what was keeping Franki. Kind of glad I did now. You see a little action there… _Sarge_?”

“Don’t make me kick your ass too, Sam.” Franki glared at him as she went by. “You know I can.”

“Yeah, yeah. Still, think that last time you cheated.” He huffed, following her down the hall.

“Say that again, Wilson, and I’ll step aside so she can have at _you_ today instead.” Bucky smirked, turning into his own rooms as they continued towards the elevator. “See you in five, doll face.”

“Better be bringing your _‘A’_ game, soldier!” She called out, sauntering after Sam.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing. Violence. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Five

* * *

When he arrived those five minutes later, Franki was preoccupied listening to Tony natter at her as she warmed up on the balance beam they’d brought in for her to use. She’d always done better on narrow ledges and tight places than open ones, and doing walkovers into back handsprings on a balance beam had become second nature to her.

It was nothing to flip and kick, landing with a softness and a surety of foot few could master, sink down into a split then press forwards and up into a handstand. Flexibility was as easy as breathing to her. It was like she was a leopard, able to twist and curl her spine, bend and flex in ways that were nearly inhuman. Walking over backwards to the very end of the beam Franki’s face was a mask of concentration as she listened to Tony talk about Nanotechnology. “So, the suit self-repairs? That’s convenient.” Taking a long stride she gathered herself, hands up, rounded into a cartwheel, turned into a back handspring and launched herself backward into a twisting spin as she dismounted, planting her feet lightly only inches from Tony.

“You need to open them ears, girly,” Tony fairly growled at her. “Yes, the suit will self-repair but the bots are there to help you notice when someone punches you in the ribcage.”

“Oh, I notice,” she muttered, finding herself the center of attention when all eyes turned her way. “I just don’t feel it.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony sighed. “Well, now you will. Pull up the damn hood, Franki.”

“Why you got to be so _bossy_ , Tony?” she drawled, smirking a little when his scowl deepened and pulled up the hood. “Holy cats!” Franki squealed. “What the hell did you do?”

“Good day, Ms. Francessca.”

“Friday?” she squeaked, surprised.

“A modified version, yes,” Tony smirked, he held up his hands and waited for a moment until he was sure he had Franki’s attention before reaching slowly for the hood. “Let’s see how that works. Friday, give us a rundown if you would.”

The deep cowl was actually bigger than it had been before, but when she’d pulled it up, a readout display had popped into view very much like Tony’s own Iron Man helmet. A panel with her vitals appeared on the left, while another, showing all the warm bodies in the room, talked to her on the right. It took a little work to get used to seeing through the display but she was so enthralled with the new tech, she paid very little attention to Tony’s hands so close to her face. “This is amazing!”

“The fit’s good. It shouldn’t jump around on you.” The nanotech had gone instantly to work to fit the inside of the hood to the shape of Franki’s head, while the outer portion stayed the same as a reaper’s cowl. Peering inside, Tony smirked. “Damn I’m good. Should have thought of that a year ago.” Because of the high tech readout that appeared to assist her, it completely covered the bright white skin she was so famous for, leaving nothing but a black void where her face should be. “No more needing to hide that face, precious. Can’t even see a hint of the glow with the new suit,” he murmured quietly, tugging gently on her hood.

It was no secret Tony was a snoop, and once the newest info about Franki had come to light, he’d done more digging on her. There was so little information out there. Even with the Hydra files, they had access to, Franki and her purpose for Hydra had remained a mystery. So, when she’d begun her tests with Doctor Cho, he had kept strict tabs on the doc’s findings, reading her notes, even the private ones she kept in her journal. Everything Franki had told Helen, Tony also knew. It broke his heart to find out the petite girl had been through so much more than any of them really understood.

Clearing his throat, Tony, again moving slowly, so she had time to steady herself, lightly touched the backs of her hands. “I know you don’t like the full gloves for delicate extractions, but you could use them to protect your fingers on the way up or down, so there’s this. Friday, do your thing.”

“Absolutely, boss.” Came to Franki’s ear before a flashing panel appeared in the lower right corner of the display. Then, as if by magic, threads began to wrap down her fingers until the same fabric as her suit fully enclosed her hands. “Wow… Tony…” she didn’t know what to say.

“Thank me later, kid. Next time we party, I want a dance.” He smirked at her, but it softened into a smile when the hood slowly nodded.

“I’ll do my best, Tony.” They were all trying so hard, she would work a little harder to make sure she could give him what he wanted.

“Or you could just give the rest of us soft names,” he teased, flicking his wrist in the direction of Cap. “I mean if Cap gets one, Red, Hawkeye, _and_ the metal behemoth, why not me? I’m adorable! You’re so cruel, Francessca.”

Laughing softly, Franki shook her head. “I doubt you’d like your soft name if you knew it. It might bruise your sense of self, Tony.”

“So I _do_ have one. What is it? Tell me, tell me, _tell me_!”

Bursting out laughing, Franki turned away, placing a com in her ear as she went. “You will have to earn it from me, Iron boy. Someday.”

“No fair!” Tony pouted, but inside he was grinning widely at having made her laugh. “I kit you out with this nice new suit and _this_ is the thanks I get?!”

Bucky smirked a little grin at how she teased Tony. The Iron Man was often too quick for his own good. A bit glib and rather snide, but Franki had been holding her own with Stark for almost a year now and to see her so aggravate the overly proud man was highly entertaining.

The musical sound of Franki’s laughter echoed in the large room and had all of them grinning like fools. It was a rare sound that had been appearing much more frequently lately. It was nice to see her so happy. “You ready for this, doll?” he called out, helping her escape Tony’s whining.

“Give me one moment.” Walking away towards the long row of mats on the far side of the room, Franki quieted her voice. “Alright, Friday. What else you got for me?” She listened intently as the AI talked about nanotech and how the bots could modify the colour of her suit, helping her fade even further into the shadows. It blocked her heat signature, reflected radar and infrared, basically allowing her to go into stealth mode, and Friday herself was available to assist in any way Franki might require. By the time the AI was finished, Franki’s face hurt with how wide her smile was.

“Alright,” she murmured, stretching her body, arms above her head. Bending to touch her toes, she twisted right and left, circled her wrists, and bent over backwards to make sure her body was nice and warm. Slapping her hands together, Franki grinned wickedly and burst into a full run. The slightly stiffer suit was warming to her, flexing a little bit easier, beginning to follow the glide and stretch of her muscles.

Bucky crossed his arms and watched her stretch, the suit pulling in all the right places, and the deep cowl making her look just like a female Grim Reaper. With Steve on one side and Sam on the other, Nat sitting on the balance beam with Wanda, Vision hovering behind, Tony monitoring the new tech Franki was trying out, and spider punk hanging from the ceiling, all eyes were glued to Franki when she took a hopping skip forward and started to run.

She was fast, serum enhanced fast. Not as fast as him, of course, but quick enough to keep up with Steve when Cap was out jogging. But it was when she started to tumble that they all held their breath. She was poetry in motion, like a gymnast only more graceful. She sprang off her hands, twisted and turned, rolled along the ground, and leapt into the air. Grabbing the low hanging rope, she swung herself up to the second story walkway and began to pace the railing.

The training facilities at the tower had been expanded years ago to include weights and equipment, boxing ring and heavy bags, mats and balance beams, all placed within a five-story open floor plan. When you had spider’s that swung through the air, falcons that flew, and androids who could levitate, it was best to have a space that accommodated everyone.

“Friday, lights if you please.” They dimmed instantly, creating deep shadows. “Excellent.” Planting her hands on her hips, Franki turned to face the watchers. “Are you ready to bring your _‘A’_ game, _snegopad?”_

She looked like some kind of dark angel ready to avenge the fallen. A true reaper. Confident and sexy as hell. The skin of her suit was shifting, changing colour to blend her deeper into the shadows. “Bring it on, baby.”

Steve chuckled softly and grasped Bucky by the shoulder. He wanted to wish his friend good luck, he really did, but Franki was practically humming with energy today, and he smirked at Bucky instead. “You’re so screwed.”

“Yeah, man. She’s going to kick your ass and there ain’t nothing you can do about it,” Sam snickered. Franki had never looked so confident. She looked like she could take on all of Hydra with that stance. “How the hell does she balance like that? That rail’s, what, an inch wide? Two?” And the woman looked like she was standing on solid ground.

“Thanks for having my back, guys. Some pals you turned out to be,” Bucky grumbled, but there was a sinking feeling in his gut. She really did look fired up. Stalking into the center of the huge training facility, he stared up at her. “Come down and play, little shadow.”

Crouching down, looking more like Peter than herself, Franki smirked though she knew he couldn’t see it. Tilting her head, she watched the new display give her a complete scan of Bucky. “This feels almost unfair,” she murmured to Friday.

“I assure you, it is not.”

A giggle slipped from Franki for the AI sounded incredibly smug. Continuing to grin wildly, Franki called out softly, “Why don’t you come up…. _snezhinka_.” Nat’s voice burst out in great belts of laughter.

“Shut up, Natasha!” Bucky snarled.

“Friday, translation if you please, darling,” Tony queried.

“She called him snowflake,” Vision supplied instead, a small grin twitching his lips while more laughter rose around them.

Glaring at the android, Bucky snarled, “Traitor.” When he looked back towards Franki, she had vanished. Rolling his metal shoulder and flexing his fingers, Bucky took a few short strides and leapt up to catch the railing of the second-floor walkway. “Didn’t think you were one to run, _malyutka_.”

She stayed perfectly still as he stalked by underneath her. The suit had changed to blend her into the wall and shadows just beneath the third story walkway. Swinging down, she kicked him hard in the back and sent him stumbling forwards. “Who said I was running?” Not waiting for him to right himself, Franki jumped up and kicked him a second time, knocking him into the railing and nearly to the ground. Dark hair flew as his head snapped around and glacier blue eyes focused on her.

When he lunged for her, she danced backwards, slipped into the shadows and vanished. A giggle seemed to echo in the room before a fist snapped past his jaw. “Interesting,” he murmured.

“What’s that?” Tony called out.

“She has already adapted to the suits tech. It is impossible to see her.” For a normal agent, it _would_ be impossible to locate her, but he was not normal. “You give yourself away, _moya zvezdochka_ ,” he rumbled, sliding into the darkness with her. “I can hear your _heart_.” He lunged for the shadows, but still, his arms came up empty.

“Are you certain, Sergeant?” she whispered near his ear, and he looked up in time to take both her feet to his chest. It threw him back a good ten feet, and she landed crouched before him. “Tsk. Your ‘ _A’_ game is sorely lacking today. And now, I get to pick the restaurant. You like Korean Barbeque, _da_?”

He hated Korean Barbeque as she well knew, but she’d put him on his ass, and he had to hand it to her. “You’ve got an advantage here, _sweetheart_ , but what if we switch the playing field. Friday! Lights on full.”

They blazed brightly into life, but Franki was already up and on the move. Leaping to the railing, she launched herself to the third-floor catwalk and jumped out of the way when Bucky’s metal fist slammed through the floor.

“Hey!” Tony barked. “Watch the merchandise!” He wasn’t running a frat house.

“Yeah, Sergeant.  You break it you buy.” Franki teased, swinging up to the fourth floor and leaping to the fifth.

“How is this not running?” he smirked at her, grabbing the railing and launching himself up to the same floor. “You going to stop playing now, doll?”

Crouched and waiting, she let Friday do her thing and when the voice murmured, _fight plan established,_ she growled, “Bring it, Barnes.”

The first round of strikes was exchanged, hands, arms, feet flashing out and blocking, always blocking.  The smacking sound was easily audible, carrying to those watching below and to Peter who looked on in awe from above. He’d know Franki could fight but _damn_! It was like watching a shrunken version of Cap.

Twisting and bending back, Franki avoided the metal hand of Bucky. “You’re pulling your punches, Barnes.”

“Don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he murmured, keeping the conversation to just them.

“Bucky,” she sighed. This was getting her nowhere. With the next punch, she used Friday’s recommendation and slipped in close. There, she drove her fist into his quad, followed it with a knee to the solar plexus and ended it by bringing her foot up over her head and giving him a good hard kick in the face. The crash when he stumbled back into the end of the catwalk was very satisfying.

“Oh, jeez. He’s pissed her off good.” Natasha’s face was lit up with the biggest grin. She kind of wished she’d brought popcorn.

Springing over backwards, Franki leapt nimbly to the catwalk railing. “You do me no favours when you treat me like glass. I will not break, and Hydra will not go so easy. Peter!”

Startled to hear his name he nearly fell from his web. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s me! I’m here!”

“Make ready.”

“Francessca, don’t do this!” Bucky snarled, disentangling himself from the metal railing.

She threw up her arms. “Then stop me, Bucky! Fight me like you mean it! I have stolen something precious from you. Come and get it back!” she snapped. Turning on her toes, Franki raced down the guardrail.

“Jesus! She wouldn’t!” Sam gasped.

Steve watched, heart in his throat, as Bucky surge to his feet and raced after his woman. “Franki, don’t be stupid!”

For once she could hear Bucky coming and, when he was close enough, when his fingers had nearly grabbed hold of her, she executed a simple twist and flip and came down behind him. His halt and turn were almost as quick as her own, metal fingers jerking him to a stop as he dragged them down the floor, and she was suddenly hit with the anger that raged in his eyes. “Oh…shit…”

“That is a fair assessment of our predicament,” Friday agreed.

A soft yelp escaped her when Bucky’s fist drove for her face, causing Franki to go on the defensive. Ducking the shining metal appendage, she slammed her fist into his ribs. He grunted, the blow a hard one, but it barely slowed him down. Using her speed to her advantage, Franki slipped around him, only to take his flesh fist to her ribs. The blow rocked her back into the wall, slamming her hard against it, and heat erupted along her ribcage and spine. _Assessing physical damage_ blinked in her display, but she had no time to waste, jerking to the side when the wall where her head had been exploded in a shatter of spraying concrete. “Better,” she muttered and watched guilt flash in his eyes before he masked the emotion.

The narrowness of the catwalk was to her advantage, and she used it. “Establish a new pattern,” she murmured to Friday, grabbing Bucky’s flesh hand and dragging it around behind his back. Sleek as a snake, she swung her leg over his shoulder, the other hooking around his throat, locking down on his windpipe. He grunted a second time, grabbing for her knee with his metal hand and she knew she was no match for that appendage. He was just too damn strong.

Folding over backwards, she gripped his waist and shoved off, flipping out of his reach and coming up in a ready stance. The flashing display from before took her attention for a split second, and she forced herself not to swear. “Not a word, Friday. Tell Tony to keep his mouth shut as well.” Flashing red, the notice reading torn trapezoid and bruised spleen meant little to her, but to Bucky, he would be devastated. She needed ten minutes, and both would be fine.

When Bucky stalked towards her, eyes hard and jaw clenched, she braced herself. Again the blows came fast and furious, and she kept up with the strike pattern, barely. He’d backed her to nearly the end of the catwalk when _new pattern established_ drawled through in Friday’s brogue. “Recommend countermeasures.” She took the next blow on her thigh, more heat washing over her skin and gritted her teeth for the leg had become quite useless. She knew she couldn’t win against him, but she was still going to give him a hell of a fight and took Friday’s suggestion.

Turning into his chest, she snapped her elbow into his chin, knocking his head back and when his metal arm slammed down towards her to capture her against his body, she caught the wrist and executed a full split that had her sliding through his legs. Dragging him down with her, pushing through his widely spread stance, Franki came up behind him with a hard jerk and flipped Bucky straight to his back. It was a move she knew would work only once and had worked this time because she’d caught him off guard.

Turning on her heels, she rabbited for the other end of the catwalk.

For a second, he stared at the roof above him in complete shock. She’d flipped him. _Flipped him_! Something not even Steve had been able to do with regularity, but this tiny bit of a woman had laid him out on his back. Anger gave way to pride as he kicked himself up to his feet and gave chase. If he didn’t love her before, he was fucking head over heels for her now. “Run, little shadow. You will not escape.” He knew she was feeling – well, not feeling – but the blow he’d given her thigh was hindering her some. He needed to catch her before it healed up if he wanted to end this.

“Is this a spar or some kind of strange version of flirting?” Vision asked, mildly confused and even more so when Wanda giggled, her hand flying to her mouth.

The deep timber of Bucky’s voice made Franki shiver. There was no anger in that sound, only pride and a seductive twist that had a smirk twitching her lips. “I already have,” she called back and leapt from the catwalk. Body straight and arms spread she executed the perfect swan dive.

“Franki!” Bucky roared only to watch her catch the same rope from earlier, using it to slide down until she was twenty or so feet from the floor. Letting go, she turned a flip and landed on the ground where she saluted him with a little flick of her wrist to her cowl. “Oh, doll face. If you think we’re done…” He thrust himself over the edge of the catwalk.

“Oh, jeez. Why do I bother to buy nice things?” Tony grumbled.

Franki rolled swiftly out of the way when he landed. The mats exploded with his impact sending dust into a thick cloud in the air. She took another glance at the readout on her display and gritted her teeth. Her quad was going to be an issue now, the major nerve center had been damaged, and it didn’t want to respond like she needed it to. But, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been here before, placed in a position with an opponent that could kill her with her body in need of recovery. She’d merely push through. “Friday, recommendations?”

“Recalibrating suit.”

_Recalibrating?_ She glanced at her hands and quirked an eyebrow. “Is this stealth mode?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” Gliding into the dust cloud, she disappeared.

Crouched in the near crater he’d made, Bucky lifted his head, a wolf on the hunt and looked for his woman. She was gone, again, and he hissed quietly, “Fuck me.”

“Someday, solider. If you can catch me,” she whispered near his ear. When his hand lashed out, she rolled over his back and kicked him in his shoulder, putting him back on his ass.

“Damn, Buck. That’s _three_ times!” Steve called out, ragging on his friend.

“You think it’s so easy, come and try for yourself!” Bucky barked back. “She’s a bloody eel!”

“Flatterer,” Franki giggled, circling the downed soldier. “You going to let me escape with my stolen Intel, Barnes? Shame on you. Whatever has happened to the Winter Soldier?”

Closing his eyes, Bucky let his enhanced senses wash out. She was nearly impossible to detect in the new suit, but her heartbeat really did give her away. He had only to wait her out. As the dust tickled his nose, he listened for the swiftly beating pulse, and when it shifted ever so slightly towards him, he turned on her. Lunging full force, he slammed into her body, moved to take the impact of the ground himself and then rolled full length on top of her, pinning her sleek form to the mats on the far side of the gym.

The impact knocked her hood back, and he stared down into sultry silver eyes. “Caught you, _malen'kaya ten',_ ” he purred quietly, slowly stretching her arms out by the wrists above her head.

_Little shadow_. The pet names just kept coming, but this one made her smile. “I suppose you would like your precious Intel back, _da_?” She smirked wickedly at him, her body humming like electricity.

“Oh, you stole something precious from me, _malytuka_ , but it wasn’t Intel, and I don’t want it back,” he whispered, eyes dragging down to hold on her lips. “You stole my heart, Franki, weeks ago. Months ago. Hell, the _moment_ your eyes met mine in that hell hole in China my heart fell at your feet.” Relaxing to the side, so he wasn’t squishing her, Bucky rested their foreheads together. “I need you to stop ripping it from my chest every time you pull one of these damn stunts.”

Turning her head, she kissed him softly, overcome with how his words affected her. “It was your kindness that drew me to you, Bucky. Soft eyes, quiet hands, and a protectiveness that I’ve never known. But you made me so mad, _snegopad_.” Twisting her wrists together, she escaped his loose hold and punched him hard in the shoulder. “Pulling your punches! _Otrod'ye_!”

“Ah! What’s with the name callin’?” He flinched, drawing back with a chuckle. “You know how long it’s been since someone called me _a brat_?”

“You are going to date yourself again if you tell me. What is it Natasha calls you? Fossils?” she snickered when he growled at her.

“Keep it up, baby and I’ll make you go dutch our first date,” he threatened. It was a completely empty one for his mother would have tanned his hide if he’d ever done something so damn stupid. Even now, the threat still hung over his head.

“What is… _go dutch_?” she asked, brow furrowed.

Stunned, he stared down at her before a shit-eating grin spread across his face. “You’re kidding? Really? You don’t know what that means?” She shook her head, and he gave a loud whoop as he jumped to his feet. Dragging her up by her hand, he tossed her over his shoulder. “Steve! Steve! Steve!”

“What?!” Cap was striding swiftly across the room, breaking into a jog when Bucky appeared in the slowly settling dust. “Franki!? You hurt?”

“No, but _someone_ will be if he does not _put me down_!” she bellowed, slapping Barnes in the ass.

“Woah! Dollface, save it for later!” he snickered, jolting with the sharp sting.

“There will not be a later if you do not let me out of the mortifying position, Bucky!”

“Bucky?” Steve asked confused.

Laughing, he swung Franki down into his arms before plopping her on her feet. “She,” Bucky pointed, grin as wide as before, “Doesn’t know what it means to _go dutch_!”

Steve’s mouth gaped open, and he stared at her astounded. “Really?”

“What is big deal?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

The thickness of her accent made Steve grin madly. “I actually _get_ that reference!” It was stupidly rare when it happened and always delighted him and Bucky when they knew what the others were talking about.

Sighing heavily, fully exasperated, Franki rolled her eyes and walked away. “Big bullies,” she pouted. “Natasha _aaa_ ,” she whined. “What does it mean to go dutch?”

“It means your too cheap date is going to make you pay. Why? Barnes say something?” Nat asked, glaring at the man in question.

“He only threatened. Threat does not work so well when one does not understand.” Flipping up her hood, Franki checked the display and flexed her thigh a few times. Everything was nearly healed.

“Barnes! How ungentlemanly of you!” Natasha scolded. “I thought all you old geezers treated their women so much better. Dreams dashed, gentlemen. Dreams dashed.” She shook her head, disappointed.

Steve flushed, but Bucky was no longer paying attention, watching instead as Franki rolled her shoulder and bent her knee. Stalking after her, he growled from behind, “How bad?”

“I’m fine, Bucky.” She waved him off.

“Stark!” he snarled.

“Like she said, she’s fine.” Now. Now she was fine with how fast she healed, but before… he’d nearly stopped them once. The blow to her thigh would have been enough to do serious damage to his armour. “Little girl’s tough.” Striding towards Franki, rapidly tapping away on his tablet, Tony grumbled, “Well?”

“It’s interesting. Heat washes over the area, and the display is useful. I like it. Friday was also most… _helpful_.” She nodded thoughtfully as the hood was jerked from her head.

“You cheatin’ now, doll?” Bucky growled, towering over her.

“Me?!” she pressed a hand to her heart, eyes wide and face shocked. “I would _never_.”

Her too innocent act made it hard to hold the scowl. “I seem to recall a certain poker night…” he mumbled.

“Tchk!” She flicked her wrist at him. “You are old and forgetful. You know nothing of what you speak.” Glancing back past his shoulder, she smirked a little grin. “Like Cap who has tendency to walk away from his coffee and not remember where he left it, _da_?” She giggled softly when Natasha nearly fell from the balance beam laughing.

“Watch it, Franki, or you may not like the consequences.” Steve smiled though, happy to see her so vibrant and engaged.

“You would have to catch me first, _belyy rystar’_!” she called out and squeaked in fear when he started towards her.

“Don’t hand out the challenge if you can’t hack it, _Reaper_!” She bolted, and he was off like a shot after her. “Come on, Buck! Just like that time in Poland.”

“Which time?” Bucky chuckled but gave chase with his friend.

“Heck! _Every time_!” Steve laughed. They always got in trouble in Poland.

“Ooh! New game! Capture or evade!” Nat called out. “Throw a punch, and you lose!”

Racing through the host of gym equipment, Franki was quick to slide under things the boys would have to go around and jerked her hood back up. Running for the far side of the room where there were large metal crates stacked, she tapped her com and murmured, “Peter?”

“Franki?” He was sitting on a rafter high above, wondering if she’d forgotten about him.

“I could use a lift _if_ you are willing to assist?” Steve had Bucky after all.

“Sweet!” Jumping up, he raced down the roof above her.

“Just like we talked. Wrist, not hand. Watch the length and a nice hard swing.” She’d been thinking about this move ever since seeing the spider in action. Heading straight for the balance beam, she jumped up, flipped herself over Nat and Wanda, and whispered, “Little help?” as she raced on, gaining distance with her hard push from the end of the beam.

Nat looked at Wanda who grinned mischievously, red beginning to shimmer in her eyes and around her fingers. Flicking her fingers, she smacked a towel into Steve’s face and tripped Bucky up with a well-placed barbell.

“Hey!” They both cried out, Steve wrenching the blind from his eyes and nearly crashing into a pile of tumbling mats. Bucky stumbled but stayed upright.

“Something wrong boys?” Nat asked, with a wicked grin. Franki had made the far end of the arena and had nearly reached the top of the tower of crates.

Snickering softly, Franki skipped to the very top and looked up. “You ready?”

“Yeah, yeah! I think so. No. Yeah. I can totally do this!” He bounced on his toes. “If something does go wrong, you’ll protect me from Bucky, right?”

Laughing softly, Franki murmured, “Yes, I will save you from the Winter Soldier.”

“Good. Good. Okay. Whew. Here goes nothing.” Running along the rafter, Peter dove from the edge, shooting a web up for himself about a third of the way down the arena. “Ready?”

Smirking at the rapidly approaching super soldiers, she lifted her left hand. “ _Da_!”

“Now!”

Using the strength of her serum enhanced legs, she leapt from the crates and felt the webbing latch around her wrist before she was hauled rather forcibly forwards. “Good catch!”

“Yeah! Remember what I said about swinging yourself forwards!” He’d explained the need to use her legs like one would on a swing set to push herself and gain momentum. Then he’d had to show her a swing set on the computer once he realized she didn’t know what he’d meant. “Wait for it…”

The speed was more than she’d expected but she found it thrilling and when she came to the valley of her swing, she kicked out as the kid called out, _now_. The upward velocity had her heading straight for the fifth-floor catwalk, and she tugged the short blade from her waistband.

“Franki, your trajectory and velocity are off by point four one six.” Friday pointed out.

“And that means?” she asked. Already committed to the move, she sliced through the overly taught webbing at the apex of the swing as Friday replied,

“You are going to miss.”

“WHAT?!” Franki shrieked. Reaching for the railing, she missed it by the barest brush of her fingertips.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Fluff. Mild Violence. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Six

 

* * *

Standing before the mirror in his bathroom, Bucky left the topmost button undone on his dark blue shirt and leaned over, pressing his hands into the countertop. Even now, as he got ready for his first official date with Franki, his heart still pounded with fear and the vision of her falling through the air was replaying in his mind.

When she’d stood proudly on top of the pile of crates, crates that he had no idea why they were there or where they had come from, he knew she was going to do something crazy. And, when Peter had dropped from the rafters behind her, he’d known exactly what that crazy had entailed and had sworn viciously.

But when she’d swung by at the end of the spider punk’s tether, doing it with seeming ease and confidence, he’d had a single, solitary moment of amazement and yes, even pride. Then she’d swung up, reaching for the high catwalk they had fought on only a short time ago. He’d smirked a little, shaking his head in complete disbelief because she’d done it.

Then... she’d missed.

She dropped nearly a full story before Wanda’s red magic had engulfed her and brought her carefully to the floor. In those ten feet, he’d felt a piece of himself start to shatter. Fear so great it paralyzed him had pounded through his heart. Only once she was safe did fear became anger. He was the first one to her side and could have shaken her he was so mad. “What the hell were you thinking!?” Had spewed from his lips along with a few choice words to the spider that refused to come down from the ceiling.

When she’d muttered something about it being only the first try and these things happen, he’d nearly lost his damn mind. Having lost it many times before, he was somewhat familiar with the feeling and backed her swiftly and firmly into the wall where he’d proceeded to slam his metal fist into the concrete until he’d pulverized a big enough hole in it to calm down. Through it all, she’d stood there, hands on his chest, speaking to him slowly and quietly, soothing his temper, completely unafraid. It had both humbled and shamed him.

Here she was, a woman so abused physical touch terrified her, and he couldn’t stop punching the wall only inches from her head. Yet her trust was so complete she’d stood relaxed and calm, waiting for him to get it together. Not even Steve could get through to him, and when he’d tried, Franki had motioned him away.

Finally, his hands had closed over her shoulders, head bowed, and lips moving against her ear he had whispered, “You could have died. If Wanda hadn’t been here… Franki…” Her mouth was on his with a softness that made him shake, and he jerked her in tight.

He had kissed her with hungry desperation, uncaring that the rest of the team stood watching until he could find a semblance of the control she’d stripped from him. Her hands slipped from his neck to his face, and he squeezed his eyes tightly closed to avoid looking at her. She was nothing if not stubborn, and he knew she wouldn’t quit because of one failed attempt.

“Bucky… look at me, _moye serdtse,_ ” she whispered, lightly stroking his cheek, the fabric of her gloves vanishing until she could feel his slight stubble against her flesh.

Sighing in defeat, she’d called him _her heart_ after all and how was a guy to deny that, he looked up to find silver eyes washed in tears. _“_ Baby, don’t…” He couldn’t stand to see her cry.

“I am sorry, _snegopad_. I am so sorry. That was very foolish and very dangerous, and you are right to be angry.” Stroking his cheek, she peered up into his eyes. “Do not blame Peter. I never should have tried something so new on such a large scale. This is my fault and my mistake.”

Sighing again, he pulled her in close and curved around her, burying his face down against her throat. “I know you won’t quit, but could you dial it back, doll? My heart can’t take it. I’m old, remember?” A quiet chuckle rumbled in her chest when she stroked his hair.

Looking up at his reflection, Bucky sighed and continued to get ready. She’d apologized to the rest of the team as well and to Peter for putting the spider punk in that position, and they had proceeded to work on perfecting this _pendulum_ swing on a smaller scale. By the time both she and Parker had begun to sweat, he’d nudged Steve into calling it quits.

Then, Natasha and Wanda had spirited Franki away, sounding a bit like clucking hens with how they talked over top of each other and he hadn’t seen her since. All he knew was he was meeting her in the lobby at five and no, she wasn’t going to force him to eat Korean barbeque. That and he needed to dress nice. Casual but nice. Natasha had so decreed it.

With a final hard look at himself, dark blue button down, comfortably worn jeans and a leather jacket that fit like a glove, he knew he looked good and shoved his hair back. He was contemplating cutting it, but, he wasn’t the same Bucky he’d been in the forties, and he felt like he was trying to be someone he wasn’t reverting to his old style. Besides, he looked a bit… _rakish_ with the longer doo, and didn’t think Franki minded.

Striding into his sitting room, he startled to see Steve, Sam, Tony, Vision and yes, even Parker, waiting for him. “Guys?”

“Damn man. You clean up good.” Sam snickered. “Though you’ve got a little colour around your eye where your girl kicked you.”

“You do remember _how_ to date, right?” Steve smirked.

“Better than you,” Bucky quipped back.

“Oh! Burn!” Peter chuckled, sobering quickly when Cap glared at him.

Rolling his eyes, Tony tossed a package at Bucky. “Here.” It had taken him a very long time to come to terms with the fact that Bucky, acting as the Winter Soldier with no will of his own, had killed his parents. A very long time in which he hated and wanted to kill the man, but, over time and with Cap’s _constant_ nagging, he’d learned that he liked Barnes. _Bucky_ had a quick wit and a keen mind and the things he’d been forced to do as the Winter Soldier were not things he could be held accountable for. He’d had no will to resist and few memories to fall back on and was now forced to live with the memories of each and every inexcusable act the _soldier_ had done. Bucky was a victim of Hydra’s plotting and manipulations no different than Tony’s family.

“What is it?” A silver faced watch slid out of the box, and he frowned at it.

“It’s not a watch, well it is, but it’s not.” Shaking his hands, Tony groused, “Just put the damn thing on… the metal one, genius.” He huffed when Bucky put it on the wrong wrist.

Brow furrowed, wondering what Stark was up to, he closed the clasp on the oddly heavy watch. “What’s it for?”

Pointing, Tony said, “Push the middle button.”

Doing so, Bucky watched, amazed, as the metal of his hand disappeared and was replaced with flesh. “How?”

“Hologram. Hand’s still metal, just looks normal.” Tony shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. They all were looking at him like he’d grown a second head and he gruffed, “What?” Rolling his eyes, he huffed out, “Franki’s kind of special. Is it a crime to want to make sure her very first date is special? I mean, there’s no accounting for _taste_ and all, she _is_ going out with Barnes, but, meh, beggars can’t be choosers.” He shrugged again.

Nodding slowly, Bucky held out his hand. “Thanks, Tony. Appreciate it.”

Once he would have rather ripped off his own arms than shake this man’s hand, but now he took it without hesitation. “You treat her right, Barnes. She’s had a rough life.”

“Don’t I know it.” Bucky looked at each of them in turn. Peter’s grin was wide and boyish, Vision’s his normal cool one that expressed little and hid much. Often Bucky wondered if he came along simply to observe human interaction. Tony’s had turned smug, as was Sam’s, but Steve’s was the wide, excited one he’d always known and when Cap got to his feet, Bucky hugged him hard. A few back slaps later, he drew back and smirked at his best friend. “How do I look?”

“Like a million bucks.” Steve grinned back.

Snickering, he picked up his wallet and Bucky sauntered out the door. “Don’t wait up.”

“I never have!” Steve laughed.

The guys waited only long enough for Bucky to get on the elevator be for rushing en masse for the control room.

* * *

Franki twisted her hands together and stared at Nat and Wanda. “Well?” She felt like a slide beneath the doc’s microscope. One under intense scrutiny.

Natasha and Wanda exchanged a look before wide grins spread, and heads nodded. “Bucky’s not going to know what hit him!” Nat smirked.

“He is going to be blown away, my friend.” Wanda smiled brightly.

Turning to face the full-length mirror, Franki peered at herself and stroked her hands down her bare arms. “I don’t know…”

“Franki,” Nat stepped up beside her and captured one of Franki’s hands. “You _look_ beautiful, and if you get uncomfortable, that’s what your coat is for. If someone says something, just tell them you have a chill.” It was late September in New York. Having a chill wasn’t uncommon.

Taking a deep breath, Franki squeezed Natasha’s hand and reached for Wanda’s. The instant jolt that came, the want to rip her hand away lasted a few seconds before she breathed past the feeling. “Thank you both. I don’t know what I would have done…” Tears choked her throat and cut off her words.

“That’s what sisters are for.” Natasha’s own eyes were a little damp, as were Wanda’s, and she was quick to stop that nonsense before they ruined Franki’s carefully applied makeup. “Now, you need to go.” She kind of really wanted to walk down with Franki just to see Barnes’ face, but she wouldn’t want to embarrass her _sestrenka_. No, instead, Natasha would be making a mad run for the control room where she could watch unashamedly.

Letting go, Nat made shooing motions to get them moving, Wanda quick to call over Franki’s coat, and the three of them headed for the elevator after the brunette picked up the small clutch Wanda had lent her. Franki was woefully understocked when it came to appropriate date wear, but they’d done a fair job of mix and match between their three closets.

“Now, have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Natasha grinned, eyes bright with laughter.

“Considering some of the things you said you _would_ do, I do not think that will be a problem, _sestra._ ” Shaking her head, Franki took her coat from Wanda and got on the elevator.

“You will be fine, Franki. Just remember that you have Bucky to watch your back. He will help you if you are feeling the panic.” Wanda smiled kindly. “And have fun!” she called as the doors shut on the flushed woman’s face. Glancing at Natasha, her grin turned cheeky when they scrambled away from the elevator in a mad dash towards the control room together giggling loudly. They barreled through the door to see five sheepish looking male faces and burst out laughing.

Stepping in front of Steve, Nat leaned back against him and gripped his arms when they wrapped around her. They held each other tightly, brimming with excitement, so happy for their friends they could hardly contain themselves. Watching the cameras, they looked between Bucky and Franki and murmured together, “Here we go.”

Tony rolled his eyes. It was like watching parents sending their children off to prom.

Taking a deep breath, Franki shrugged into Natasha’s coat, tugging her heavy mass of hair from the back. The sleek trench was a dark chocolate brown that matched the soft knee-high boots she’d borrowed from Wanda. Dark leggings, more navy than black, covered her legs, those from her own wardrobe, while the forest green tunic, thigh length and sleeveless, was again borrowed from Nat. A gold chain belt hugged her hips, matching the sleek gold pendant that hung from her neck. It was an arrow, an exact match for Natasha’s, given to her by Clint on what they had decided was her chosen birthday; the actual date long forgotten. She wore no other jewelry, earrings an impossibility as the holes healed over, and bracelets and rings held little appeal.

Tucking her hands in her pockets, Franki chewed nervously on her lip. She was going on a date. Her first date. At approximately twenty-seven, she was going on her first _ever_ date, something she’d always thought would never happen. And it was with… _Bucky_.

_James Buchannan Barnes._

A man she had dreamed of far more than she wanted to admit even to herself. The nights she wasn’t having nightmares about the hole in China, she was dreaming about Bucky and what it would be like to feel his touch.

Now she knew, and it was better than any dream she’d ever had. The elevator dinged for the main floor, and she stepped out the door with far more confidence than she was truly feeling.

* * *

Bucky was leaning against the wall, waiting, ignoring the flirtatious looks of the females that wandered by. It was closing time for Stark Tower, and there was a lot of traffic, so he stayed close to the private elevator reserved for the Avengers. It didn’t matter how hot the dame was, they weren’t Franki and couldn’t turn his head. With the sound of the elevator’s arrival, he pressed off the wall and turned with a smile only to have it fall from his face in amazement. “Wow…” he whispered, letting his eyes trail over her.

She looked fantastic especially with the cascading fall of curls that clung to her shoulders and hung all the way to her waist. They were lush and thick, a dark chestnut that was threaded with gold, and his fingers ached to sink into that mass again. A flush rode her creamy skin, pink and adorable. Her lashes were curled and long, darker than usual, as were her eyes. Smoky shadow covered the lid, easily seen with her downcast gaze. “Damn, doll. You’re prettier than a sunset.”

Looking up shyly, she took him in and nearly sighed for he was just so handsome. He’d shaved, and her fingers tingled to touch that smooth skin. She was so used to the scruff he persistently wore that the days he did finally shave it all off were like seeing a different person. “And are all sunsets pretty?” she asked quietly.

“Every single one,” he murmured, holding out his hand. She took it, and he tugged her closer, so her free hand pressed against his chest. “Sunsets are beautiful, but you put them all to shame.” Her smile grew, and he returned it with one of his own. Giving in to temptation, he sank his fingers into her mass of curls and held her there. “Traditionally I’m not supposed to kiss you till the end of the night but… Francessca…” Silver eyes turned sultry and dropped to his lips.

“Kiss me now, Bucky.” His mouth closed over hers, and she sighed into it.

Keeping it reasonably innocent in this public location, Bucky nibbled gently on her lush lips and used his larger frame to keep her hidden from sight. When he finally drew back, silver eyes lifted and he growled softly with how sexy she looked. Hazy eyed and flushed, he gently cupped her cheek. “You want to tell me where we’re going, baby?”

The humming in her blood and over her skin was too pleasant, and it took her a moment to blink him back into focus. “Hmm, not far. We can walk.” When he turned, offering his arm, she smiled and took it only to gasp and touch the back of his hand. “How?” Beneath her fingers, she could still feel the ridges and plates of his metal hand, but it looked just like flesh.

“Stark. It’s a hologram.”

“It’s _wonderful_.” She smiled brightly for him only to watch a shadow fall across his face. “Bucky?” she asked softly as they stepped into the crisp fall air and long evening shadows.

“It’s nothing.” He shook his head.

Frowning, Franki drew him to the left and out of the flow of pedestrians. “It is something. You’re eyes tell me the truth when your lips lie, _snegopad_. What is it?”

Sighing softly, he motioned to his left arm. “What do you think of this? Does it bother you?”

Taken aback, she stared up at him in shock. “No! No of course not! This is a part of you, and it helps make you who you are today. Yes, at one point you were tasked to use it to do horrible things, but that fault is not yours, Bucky.” She rapidly shook her head and placed her fingers to his lips when he tried to speak. “I have seen what that machine could do. I watched the others… _scream_ as it tore them apart,” she whispered, only loud enough for her super soldier to hear. “They would disappear before my very eyes. All identity gone. It was… _horrible_.” She may not have known them well or been friends with them, but no one deserved that fate. To know he’d gone through it many times just tore at her. “So to see you use what Hydra intended for evil as a tool for good, it gives me great joy. You are a miracle and a hero and have been so to me and many others.” She finished, one hand on his cheek, the other his arm.

She’d robbed him of words, an action that he was growing familiar with. Clearing his throat, he murmured, “But… you said the hologram…”

Her eyes widen in understanding before they softened. “Oh, Bucky. I meant how wonderful it would be _for_ _you_. You can leave the glove off, walk down the street and no one will think anything of it.” She knew he declined going out often because of the looks he got. “This gives you such freedom.”

Again she knocked his feet out from under him, and he bent to kiss her softly. “You’d think I’d get used to you knocking me on my ass, baby.” Chuckling quietly he shook his head in wonder. “You humble me.”

Smirking a cheeky little sound she shrugged. “Maybe you need it.”

“You calling me conceited, doll face?” he asked, collecting her hand back to his arm. The casual touching of her delighted him.

“If the shoe fits, Barnes,” she teased, stepping back into the flow of pedestrians. There were a lot of people packing the streets, and she shifted closer to Bucky when another passerby brushed against her and made her flinch.

The move was tiny but felt, and Bucky was quick to shift her beneath the protection of his arm. “Wrap your arm around my waist, Franki. Beneath the coat.” It would keep her close and better covered.

She flushed a little but did as bidden, finding the warmth of his body made her tingle even through Nat’s coat. “I rarely leave the tower,” she murmured. “And not in such… thin clothing.” She felt more exposed than ever dressed as she was.

“I know, _malyutka_.” She was much more vulnerable outside the tower, easily touched, and unable to stand the overstimulation without the heavy weight of her bodysuit. After her time with Dr. Cho, so much about Franki had begun to make sense and all of them had grown more accommodating, and, for the guys, more protective. Especially Tony. Bucky had often caught the Iron Playboy staring at Franki with a look of fondness, sometimes sorrow, and he knew for Stark, the little Russian woman had become a kind of surrogate daughter or even little sister. He did things for her and put up with Franki’s guff because he _felt_ for her. Theirs was a kinship of sorts, as well as understanding, and Bucky knew the feeling was mutual. That thought had him asking, “Just what is Tony’s soft name?”

The heavy weight of his metal arm lay across her shoulders, but it was nothing she could not handle. His hand swung or rested near her elbow, and he was doing a fair job of blocking all others from brushing against her. When she glanced up at him, she had to bite her lip for the look on his face was one of such predatory warning, she knew he was clearing a path with his scowl alone. “Why do you want to know?”

“If it’s anything like Clint’s I’m sure to enjoy it immensely.” A smirk twitched his lips when she chuckled, and he darted a look down at her shining face. “You have names for all of us, don’t you?”

“ _Da_. Since almost the beginning.”

Again a sly grin crossed her face and made him chuckle. “That’s harsh, doll. You know how bad the guys whine about being left out?”

“And you? Did you whine, _snegopad_?”

Sparkling silver eyes glinted up at him with laughter in them. “Maybe… to Cap.” Musical notes seemed to flow from her lips when she laughed. It drew eyes, but he couldn’t tear his from her to notice how the elderly couple nudged each other and smiled, murmuring about young love and how it was always the biggest men that fell for the littlest women.

Gripping his waist a little tighter, she patted his abs with her opposite hand. “Awe, my poor _snezhinka,_ ” she giggled, grinning up at him.

“It’s damn fortunate you’re so beautiful, or I’d make you pay for that snowflake comment.”

“Pish,” she flicked her hand at him. “You speak the big talk, but you have no follow through.”

“I’ll show you–” He began only to have her turn towards a doorway.

“Here we are!” She smirked, tugging him towards the glass door of the little Italian place Natasha had told her how to find.

“Lucky you.” He huffed, pulling the door open and allowing her to escape his arm.

Grinning at him, she turned to face the kid at the hosting kiosk, and he watched, amused, as the boy nearly fell over himself with her smile. But when the kid, who looked no more than twenty, casually tried to flirt with her, he stepped up to her back, snaked a hand around her waist and breathed against her ear, “ _Moya zvezdochka,_ are we eating or just standing around?”

His closeness made her shiver as did his possessiveness. No one had ever been possessive of her before. “Eating, I do hope. Natasha said she made the reservation under Barnes and requested her regular table.”

“Oh, uh, right.” Eric, clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking as he realized who the big man was. “Right this way.” Natasha Romanoff was in their restaurant often, and with that casually dropped name and request for her specific table, he’d clued into the fact that these were two of her teammates.  Two more Avengers were dining in their restaurant. The Winter Soldier was one but the woman….

Bucky sauntered along behind Franki as she followed the kid. Noting all the points of entry, windows, emergency exit signs, and the layout of the place with a casual air as if he was simply taking in the atmosphere. Dimmer lights, well-spaced tables with crisp white linens, and fat, squat candles as centrepieces gave the place a nice, romantic quality, exactly right for a first date with someone you cared for. He’d thank Nat for that later.

The booth the kid led them to had clear lines of sight, was against the wall but away from the corner, and was just slightly secluded so that conversations could not be easily overheard. It was a good spot, and as a fellow assassin, he could see why Natasha liked it.

When Franki went for the belt on her jacket, he was quick to reach for the shoulders, helping her out of her coat and hesitating only a moment when he found her beautiful skin on display. _Damn._ She looked stunning in her green shirt, the cowl neck draping down to highlight firm breasts, while her creamy skin practically glowed in the soft lighting. She slid into the both quickly, a little uncomfortable with her arms bare, and he was quick to shrug out of his coat and follow suit, tossing both their jackets on the small hook at the edge of their booth. The kid was just finishing up his babbling about the specials when he stopped in the process of handed Franki her menu.

Eric’s eyes were enormous when he whispered, “You’re her. You’re Reaper.” No one _ever_ saw her outside the tower!

_“_ Her _name_ is Franki,” Bucky growled, disliking how she’d stiffened.

“It is okay, Buck,” she murmured, placing her hand lightly on his arm. She didn’t smile when she looked to the wide-eyed boy but kept her face expressionless, and nodded slowly. “ _Da_ , my _sestra_ and the others sometimes call me _Reaper._ ” She held out her hand for the menu.

The kid made his first mistake when instead of handing over the menu he lunged for her hand. The second was when he made her recoil, and the soldier intercepted the idiot’s grab. A flesh fist was no match for his metal one and gave dramatically causing the kid to scream and an elderly man to rush from the back of the restaurant. “Did she _say_ you could touch her?” Bucky snarled, rising slowly to his feet.

A spate of Italian words passed between the older man and the kid that Bucky followed easily. One didn’t live in his old neighbourhood with all the Nonnas and _not_ learn passible Italian. It was only when the lies began to flow, the kid claiming he’d attacked him unprovoked, that Bucky increased the pressure and began to bark his own angry words. “You do not touch a woman, _any woman_ , without her express permission!”

Both men gasped in shock and turned his way. Disgusted, Bucky released the kid with a flick that had the boy tumbling backwards. The hand would be painful for some time, but he hadn’t broken anything. “He makes my date uncomfortable, speaking of things he has no business talking about, and then _lunges_ for her like some kind of linebacker. You’re damn right I’m going to go on the offensive!”

Franki stared at him in shock. She’d never heard him speak anything but Russian or English so to hear the frosty rumble of Italian gave her pause. “Bucky…”

“Are you alright, _malen'kaya ten'_?” he asked but didn’t look away from the two men.

He switched languages so swiftly it was like speaking with Vision. “ _Da_ , thank you.” The force he’d used was a little uncalled for, but she was grateful for the rescue. Having the kid grab her would have gone nearly as badly. From the moment he’d whispered her moniker, something about him had made her skin crawl.

“Sergeant Barnes, pardon my son’s lack of manners.” He gave Eric a good strong wack to the back of the head. “There is no excuse for his behaviour but that he is a huge fan of the ladies Romanoff.”

The older man had kind eyes and was looking very embarrassed, something Franki was all too familiar with, and she gave a tug to Bucky’s shirt. They had drawn far too much attention already. “I do not mind meeting a fan, but I’d prefer it if they did not touch me. I have… _sensitive_ skin.” She explained quietly.

Sitting down, Bucky brushed her hair from her shoulder in a comforting caress. “We can go, _malyutka_ if you’d prefer not to eat here?” The owner, however, was no fool and knew if the two of them left none of the Avengers would patron his business again. He immediately scrambled to placate Bucky.

“No, no! Sergeant Barnes, you must allow us to make up for this _regrettable_ first meeting. I will hear nothing of it but that you two remain my guests for the evening. Everything is on us!” Glaring at his son, Marco motioned for Anna Maria, his niece, to attend the table. “This is Anna. She will be happy to bring you anything you require. I will return shortly with a nice Boudreaux to go with your meal.” Jerking Eric up by his collar, he pulled his son into the kitchen where he proceeded to dress him down thoroughly.

“We do not have to stay, Franki,” Bucky murmured, ignoring the girl fidgeting where her uncle once had stood.

“As long as you’re okay with it, I’m fine.” Nat had raved over the food, and it smelled divine. She really was hungry, and the owner had been so upset.

The scene they’d been part of was already big enough to have drawn a host of cell phones their way, and Bucky sighed knowing it was going to spin harshly out of control one way or another and figured he’d best try and spin it their way by turning a smile on the young girl that hovered. “Anna, right?”

He’d gone from scary to drop dead gorgeous with that megawatt smile, and Anna felt her brain fizzle before it kicked back in. “Ye-yes, that’s me.”

“What do you recommend for two people with enormous appetites?”

Franki sat back and watched in amusement as Bucky charmed the pants off the girl tasked with making him happy. It was quite simply the most amazing thing she’d seen outside a battle… _ever_ , and when the owner returned, he continued the act of charming and contrite guest, apologizing for the force he’d used, and complementing the owner, Marco, on his excellent choice in wines. When the plate of olives, cheeses, and grapes was set before them, and both Anna and Marco left them alone, she plucked up a juicy red grape and popped it in her mouth, all the while peering at Bucky with a contemplative gaze.

“What?” he finally asked when she remained ever so slightly, _smugly,_ silent.

“I see, now, why the girls all flocked to Sergeant Barnes back in the day. You can be quite charming when you wish.” Franki smirked a little grin.

He turned towards her. “Charming you say?”

“For one who is so conceited, _da_.”

Her grin was full and wide as she made to pop an olive in her mouth and he caught her hand in his, bringing her fingers to his lips to steal her olive. “You keep it up, doll. That smart mouth is going to get you in trouble.”

She figured it already had. His teeth had lightly grazed her skin, and it became instantly hard to breathe. Lips had closed around her fingers, and she’d wanted to moan. Then his tongue had stolen the olive, and she felt it like he’d licked her throat. Heat had bloomed low and vivid in her abdomen. “Bucky…”

Her eyes had darkened into steel, and her pulse was thrumming in her throat. “You like that, doll face?” he murmured, “My mouth on your fingers?” He brought them back to his lips and sucked them slowly.

“I…” she breathed a soft sigh before letting her fingertips drag over his lips. “Touching you, Bucky… having you touch me… it is… _heaven,_ ” Franki whispered.

He could see it in her eyes and leaned in to kiss her softly. “It’s the same for me, baby,” he murmured against her lips. Pulling back, he picked up his glass of wine. He was more of a beer man but wasn’t going to complain. “Got a question for you, _malytuka._ You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but I’ve been wondered about something.”

Blinking him back into focus, his sweet kiss having muddled her brain, Franki nabbed a piece of cheese. “Ask, and we shall see.”

“You said you were Weapon F before they made you subject 7?” he murmured low, keeping the conversation between just them.

“ _Da_ ,” she answered hesitantly, wondering where he was going with this.

“Just how many others were there with you?” When they’d pulled her out of the hole in China, she had been the only _prisoner_ they’d come across.

Picking up her wine, Franki took a fortifying sip before playing with the base. Turned towards each other, she was aware of how their knees touched, the press of Bucky’s thigh, the way his vibranium hand rested against the back of the booth and played with her hair. All the little points of contact hummed happily with his nearness, but her mind was drifting back to that place and that time.  “They took fifteen of us from the Red Room. I was Weapon F, Francessca, the one who was unfeeling.”

“What happened to the others?” he asked softly.

“Three died in training. One more after the serum was administered. Six reacted poorly to the serum or had… _strange_ mutations and became _subjects_ instead of weapons. The other five… went in the machine and were erased.” Sighing softly, she shook her head. “I don’t know what they were trying to do with us. The training was intense, no different than what I had been doing in the Red Room, but… there was more defensive training involved, and they sent the others on… _strange_ missions. They would be taken from the cells and returned bloody, often near death, never gone for more than a day, wiped again once they recovered. The cycle would repeat until one day they just _didn’t_ come back and you would hear one of the guard talking about Weapon whatever had been terminated.  After I became subject 7 it was harder to keep tabs, but all the other Weapons did, eventually, end up dead.”

Her hands were twisting the base of her wine glass, and he gently extracted it before she snapped the stem. “You are safe with me, Franki. Ain’t no one who can get to you through me.” Her hand landed on his chest, and he held it there against his heart.

“I don’t _need_ protection, Bucky but I appreciate the sentiment.” He only looked at her with those piercing blue eyes, as if to say she was getting the protection anyways, and she rolled hers. “Subjects one through six had slowly been succumbing to whatever experiments the scientists were performing. I was all that was left when you finally arrived.”

Gently cupping her chin he murmured, “Not a moment too soon.” The syringe lying on the floor in that room would have likely spelled her death.

Blushing softly, Franki nodded and leaned into his touch a little harder. “No, not a moment.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Fluff. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Seven

* * *

They ate and talked, laughed, and ate more until they were both so full they were practically groaning. Marco and Anna continued to return to the table, smile and joke with them until the second bottle of wine was empty, and the last plate was clean. When Bucky finally slid from the booth to hold Franki’s coat for her, Marco was quick to return to the table.

“I hope you enjoyed your date, _si_?” He smiled widely and pressed his big hands together. Though the evening had started out a little rough thanks to the foolish actions of his son, the two Avengers had been nothing but exceptional guests, amusing, and most pleasant. Anna had giggled quite a few times about just how adorable the two of them were together. Franki had stars in her eyes and Bucky was focused entirely on the petite woman.

“It has been lovely, Marco. _Grazie_.” Franki smiled, shrugging into her coat.

“ _Prego!_ ” Marco beamed. “You come again, anytime. I will have a bottle of the ’45 merlot waiting for you.”

“You spoil me.” Franki smiled, shaking her head. When the heavy metal hand landed on her low back, she nodded goodbye and followed Bucky’s guiding hand out of the restaurant. Once the door shut, she took a deep inhalation of the crisp, cool air and grinned up at Bucky. “I saw you tuck those bills beneath your plate.”

“Food was good.” He shrugged. “Not Marco’s fault his son is a fat-head.”

Sliding her hand into his, fingers weaving through his metal ones, she asked, “How much can you actually feel with these? Heat, cold, pressure?”

“All of the above. The whole arm’s more sensitive and dextrous than my right. Stronger. Faster.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I can feel the fine hairs of your skin with my thumb, baby.” Bucky brushed it lightly up the side of her wrist and led her away from the restaurant with a gentle tug.

The information made her wonder just what _else_ he could do with those dextrous and nimble fingers, and those thoughts made her thankful for the night that had long fallen to help disguise the blush that filled her face.

“Your pulse quickens, doll. Something about this conversation that excites you?” he asked coyly, sliding a glance her direction and smirking at the colour that darkened her cheeks.

Refusing to answer, she asked instead, “Where to now, Bucky?”

“Surprise,” he hinted, crossing at the light and heading into Central Park. He’d happened to overhear the tail end of her conversation the other day with Peter. “Park’s changed since I was a boy.”

“How so?” Franki asked, looking out at the trees. The wide lane was streetlamp light, but it left deep shadows along their path. For someone else, they might have found that darkness spooky, but for the two super soldiers it was almost comforting. In this darkness, they were the supreme predators and nothing out there was scarier than them. Though one wouldn’t have guessed it to look at them. Strolling along hand in hand, they were just another couple out enjoying the briskness of fall and the soft night.

“Lamps are brighter, and I think there’s more of them. Trees are bigger, denser, and the whole thing is looked after better. Plus they took down the _keep off the grass_ signs,” he chuckled, leading her towards the familiar ground and hoping what he was after was still there.

“They used to make you keep off the grass? I thought this was a park?” she asked, stunned.

“It is but at one time it was for the hoity-toity set. The elite used it as a place to be _seen_ until the city grew bigger and then it was meant to be some sort of retreat from the city life everyone was living. They didn’t want to add things like ball fields and playgrounds until August Heckscher donated a bunch of equipment and basically forced the issue. His was the only playground in the park for a long time.”

“So… we are going to a playground?” she peered up at him confused.

“I sort of heard you talking to Peter about swings…” he started hesitantly, heading down another path that would take them directly to the playground. “You said you’d never been so…” He motioned to the short wooden fence that surrounded the swing sets.

“You brought me to a playground… so I could _swing_?” she whispered, staring at the equipment cast in shadows.

“Um…” He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. “Yes?” Her squeal was high pitched and excited when she launched herself at him. Arms going swiftly around his neck, she quickly hugged and released him before bounding like a deer over the wooden fence. “Easy there, doll,” He called out, but the smile on his face was nearly as big as hers.

“How do I… where do you sit? How do you do it? Did you swing here?”

Her excited, bubbling voice made his chest ache for the childhood she was denied. She fucking _slayed_ him when she turned bright silver eyes his way, hand latched around the chain of the swing and teeth in her lip. He felt his heart simply drop to splat on the ground at her feet. He was so in love with her it was stupid. Clearing the fence, he stalked towards her.

Franki’s body jolted into life with his swift murder strut. Something in his eyes was darker, feral, a little wilder than she’d ever seen before. It skipped her heart in her chest and made her mouth dry, but, a beat had begun to drum deep in her abdomen, along with a pleasurable clench of her womb. He looked as if he had come to devour her whole. And, when he stopped, inches from her, towering above like some old world god, she quivered in anticipation. Something was happening, flowing between them in arcs and dips of electricity that she didn’t quite understand, and she whispered, “James?”

_Merciful God…_ He was never going to get her out of his system. Right then and there he knew it with the certainty of a sniper that never missed his shot. She was under his skin, right to the bones, soaking into his soul and he was never going to get her out.

He didn’t even want to try.

The chain she held clanked softly against its mooring, and he took the clutch she held in her opposite hand from her. Slipping it inside his jacket, he took hold of her hips and moved her before the swing. Shifting his grip to her hands that had fallen to her sides, he wrapped one around each chain and murmured, “Sit back.”

Every cell in her body quivered with the command, and she slowly lowered her butt into the cradle of the thick rubber seat. “Like this?” she whispered, unable to look away from the emotion swamping his eyes.

“ _Da,”_ he nodded. Sliding around behind her, he leaned close to her ear. “Hold on, Franki.”

A soft gasp escaped her when his large hands took hold of the chains and drew her back. The whole thing had turned so sensual her skin ached for his touch, and she tilted her head to look into his face. “Bucky… _please_ …”

Holding her there, the angle perfect, he brought his lips to hers and brushed them slowly together. Gentle, soft touches that inflamed his blood and made him hungry. Hungry to devour the petite woman whose trust in him was so complete, she leaned back and whimpered for more. Sinking deeper, he swept his tongue into her unresisting mouth and twined his around hers, stroking and coaxing her into following him, exploring the cavern that was his own mouth, and growled when her tongue flicked over the edge of his teeth.  

The rumble of his pleasure had her doing it again, growing bolder with each sound he made, and she nipped his lip before allowing him to draw back. In the deep shadows of the playground, she could just make out the desire in his eyes, and it made her want to do foolish and inappropriate things with him right then and there.

Then, he released the chains he held, and she was suddenly falling through the air in an arc that made her squeal in surprise. The lesson from Peter kicked in, and she kicked out her feet before returning in reverse towards Bucky whose large hands pushed against her hips.

“Oh!” she laughed, feet kicking in joy. What a feeling of freedom it was to float over the ground in swift swinging arcs!

Stepping to the side, Bucky smiled and leaned against the metal post that held the swings up, watching for a few moments as she swung with the sweet abandon of a child. “Lean back.”

“Hmm?” she glanced his way and felt her heart turn over. He leaned comfortably against the post, hands in his pockets, and smile on his face, flashing white teeth, that she knew he was happy here with her. A comfortable, relaxed Bucky was still rare from what Natasha had said.

“Hold tight and when you swing forwards again, lean all the way back.”

Trusting him to know what he was about, she did so and watched the ground rush by. “AH!” Franki laughed, happiness exploding out of her with the sound.

Her hair trailed after her, and Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at her obvious joy. When she kicked back up, face flushed but grin enormous, he walked a few feet away and turned to face her. “Now jump.”

“What?”

“Jump. At the top of the swing, jump.” He motioned with his hand. “Slide off and let go, jump!” Her brow arched, a barely discernible action but he could just tell she was looking at him like he was crazy. “Or are you chicken, baby?” It wasn’t like she could get hurt, not his little super soldier.

“Chicken!” she barked, insulted. Kicking up to the top of the swing set, she let go of the chains and found herself flying through the air, the swing rattling with her release and she dropped down beside him. Landing gracefully in the gravel she laughed, a hand going to her heart in wonder. “I did that pendulum swing with Peter how many times today, but a little leap of faith from a swing set makes my heart fly into my throat!”

There was just no helping it. He was fucking done. Just hopelessly, stupidly, in love with her.

Snagging her by the belt of her coat, Bucky jerked her forwards and slammed his mouth down on hers in a feverish, hungry kiss that took and gave and melded them together. Her arms locked around his neck and his locked around her back, his flesh hand closing in her hair and holding her there as he ate at her lips, a man starving for her taste.

He was ready to drag her back to the tower and strip them both of every stitch of clothing when the flashing of a beam of light hit him in the side of the face and made him snarl in angry Russian, “` _tchyo za ga`lima?”_

Franki returned the sentiment of _what the fuck_ and turned to squint at the flashlight. “Huh?”

“You two shouldn’t be in there. Playground’s closed.”

Bucky had to physically fight down the response of his training that had him moments from taking out the men who’d startled him. If it had been a few years ago, he would have likely already done so and would have done so without blinking. After Wakanda and his time in cryo, the team that had worked nonstop to deprogram his brain and give him back a semblance of himself, it was easier to halt those instinctive reactions, but he was finding when he was with Franki, his need to see her safe, protected, overrode everything else. “Sorry, officers. We’ll be going.”

“Oi! You two best come out here and tell us what you were up to.”

The second officer waved at them, hand on his holster and Bucky tensed beside her. “It’s alright, _snegopad,”_ Franki whispered, drawing her hands down to his chest. “Breathe.”

“His hand is on his gun, Franki. That ain’t happening,” he murmured back, shifting her slightly behind him as he slowly stalked from the shadows, keeping her there with his hand on her elbow. When he cleared the fence like it was nothing more than a step on a stair, both officers took one in retreat, and he growled, “Problem, officers?” Holding out his hands, he caught a glare from Franki, but she let him help her over the railing.

The man that stepped from the dark was a figure no one would fail to recognize, and Jack looked to Ronny with a gaping mouth. “Bucky Barnes!” Ronny’s hand immediately left his weapon and dropped to his side. This was not a man you wanted to point a weapon at.

Ronny stared at the figure that Barnes was protecting with his massive bulk. “Franki Romanoff!”

Sighing softly, Franki nodded. “Gentlemen.”

Both tipped their hats at nearly the same time. “Ma’am.” She was a rare sight around Manhattan even though she lived in the heart of downtown.

“Something we can do for you?” she asked quietly, slipping her fingers into Bucky’s, aware that he was still looking at the officers like they could turn rabid on them any moment. Below their level of hearing, she whispered, “At ease there, solider,” and squeezed his fingers. His shoulders relaxed but it was only marginally.

“No, ma’am. I’m Jack, and this is my partner, Ronny.” Jack shook his head. “We were just doing our rounds and, well… that part of the park closes at seven thirty and…”

He gave them such an _aw-shucks_ look she was hard pressed not to smile. “Ah, so we were somewhere we shouldn’t be. Bucky, you get me in trouble with these nice officers the first time you take me out? Shame on you. What will Natasha say?”

He almost snorted with her strongly accented scolding, managing to just hold in a grin when he looked down at her laughing silver eyes. “Baby, you wouldn’t throw me on Natasha’s mercy now, would you? I thought we had some laughs, doll face?”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, ma’am. You clearly didn’t know.” Ronny nodded to his partner. “We’re just so stoked to have met you both.” He grinned widely.

“What is _stoked_?” Franki murmured, frowning.

Bucky smirked down at her. “He means happy, _malyutka_.” Spider punk said the same thing on occasion.

“Ah.” She nodded.

Jack and Ronny exchanged another look before Jack finally broke and asked first. “If it’s not too much trouble… could I… oh, jeez… my kid’s a _huge_ fan of yours, Sergeant Barnes and it would just make his day if I could get a picture?”

Surprised, it took Bucky a second to find his voice. “Yeah, sure.” Usually, when this happened, he was out with Steve, and it was Cap’s picture or autograph they wanted.

“I’ll take it!” Franki was quick to say and motioned Ronny forwards. “You can both be in it.”

“Oh… I,” Jack looked disappointed.

“Franki’s a shy one,” Bucky smirked at her. “She’s not one for having her picture taken.”

She smiled at Bucky for his save. He just knew she was uninclined to have one or both of these guys touch her. Taking the phone the officer handed her, she was quick to pull up the camera and said, “Smile!”

The two officers looked small compared to her Bucky whose grin was pleasant but nowhere near as big as the men to either side of him. They looked star-struck, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing when she handed the phone back to Jack. “It was nice to meet you both.”

“And you, ma’am.” Jack nodded, watching her with a soft smile as she walked back to the big man that was quick to wrap his arm around her.

“Hey, Jack?” When the man looked up, Bucky cocked his head. “Still want that picture?” He grinned wide before turning back to Franki. Bending her over his arm, he dipped her deep and kissed her quickly before she could do something about it. Like, kick him. In the head. _Again_. A flash went off, and he lifted her back up, chuckling when she smacked him in the shoulder.

“ _Snezhinka!_ ” she barked, escaping his hold and sending a swift kick towards his thigh that he easily avoided. Turning up her nose she stalked away from the three laughing men.

“Think you may have pissed off your date there, Sergeant.” Jack snickered. He didn’t know what she’d spat at him, but she looked as hissy as a wet cat.

“Officers,” Bucky smirked, jogging swiftly and silently after Franki. Catching up within a few strides, he snagged her hand, ducked her fist, blocked the knee she aimed at his gut, and spun her back into his chest. Between one lamppost and the next, coated in shadows, he brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her until her body softened and a quiet moan spilled from her lips. “Still mad at me, _moya_ _zvezdochka_?”

_“_ _Otrod'ye…_ ” she sighed but rested her head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his strong heart and the softer the sounds of his vibranium arm as he stroked her hair. “Nearly gets me arrested and then embarrasses me… some date _you_ are.” He chuckled, well aware she was only teasing.

Her hand wrapped his waist, and he threw his over her shoulders again, slowly ambling away into the park. From behind them, he could hear the hushed officers voices as they spoke excitedly about the two _Avengers_ they’d just met. Jack was on his phone to his wife, and Bucky almost snickered when Jack swore up and down that he’d just met _James Buchannan Barnes_ and _Francessca Romanoff_ and he was sending her pictures to show Jimmy when he woke up. It wasn’t until he started in on how he was pretty sure the two of them had been on a _date_ and _making out_ in the park that Bucky broke out in a grin. It had been a _really_ long time since someone had speculated on his love life.

Back in the days of the Howling Commandos it was usually Steve they nattered about, seeing as how he kept that picture of Peggy in his compass, but there had been a few newsreels that had expounded on his varied relationships and if he’d ever find a woman that could _tame_ him. Then… he’d fallen from the train. Visions of freefalling filled his head before warmth invaded his abdomen.

“Bucky?” Franki murmured, her free hand sliding over his stomach. Something was wrong. He’d gone from warm and laughing to almost cold against her. Not physically. He was still as hot as always, but something had changed. Some thought from his past was chasing him.

He stopped and looked down at her concerned visage before turning to face her and very gently touch her cheek. “I have had so many new memories come back tonight thanks to you. I didn’t even realize how many until just now. The swings were once rope and wood. The ground beneath was grass. I remember pushing my sister on a swing just like I did you. Of her laughing and flying through the air. I remember when I was a Howling Commando, and the news would speculate whether I was single or rationed. If there was some dame that had caught my fancy or if there was a special lady at home that I wrote letters to.”

“Was there?” she asked, unable not to.

“No, doll. Not back then. Just my mama and sister.”

Sadness washed through the blue, and she knew his family were all gone. “Bucky,” Reaching up she cupped his cheek.

“They brought it back. Memories of news people asking questions that I would laugh off.” He leaned into her touch.

“Are you… _worried_ about what will be said now?” She hadn’t even thought of it, but the Avengers were always food for the gossip mongers.

Slowly, he shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” she whispered as his hand sank beneath her hair and cupped the back of her head. His other banded across her back and she knew she was caught, had been caught for some time.

“Because I don’t care what they say. You’re mine, my best girl. The only dame that’s ever caught my fancy. I’m totally rationed, _moya_ _zvezdochka._ I’m all yours.”

Sliding her hand behind his head, she drew him down to her, hovering millimetres from his lips. “I don’t know what that means, but I like how it sounds. I’m all yours, Bucky. Your girl.” Pulling him the rest of the way down, she pressed her lips to his in a sweet kiss only to hear the two police officers murmur to each other about how _adorable_ they were. Breaking away, she grinned up at Bucky whose blue eyes were back to being filled with laughter. “Adorable?”

“ _Da_. At least you are.” Slinging his arm around her shoulders, the two of them walked on.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing. A little angst. A lot of smut. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Eight (NSFW)

 

* * *

A few nights later, just shy of three in the morning, Franki woke in a sweaty mess, blankets tangled around her legs, breath coming in heavy pants, and heart pounding. She’d dreamed of China, of beatings and drugs and experiments. She’d dreamed of being strapped to a table as her bones were broken and her body healed, only to be re-broken again and again. There was no pain. Only nothingness. Only numbness. It was the constant emotional and mental abuse that wore her down. The distress of never feeling anything.

Pressing her hands to her face, Franki shuddered, tears coming to her eyes. She felt so numb, so frozen, so… _dead_ inside. It made her sick to her stomach. Snuffling, she wiped the few drops of moisture that escaped from her eyes and pushed back her now soiled bedding. Getting up, she stripped the sheets from the mattress and then the clothes from her body, tossing it all in a hamper to deal with later.

Standing in her skin, Franki shivered as she dug for clean pajamas, pulling on white cotton shorts and a blue t-shirt that – ironically – had Cap’s shield emblazoned across her breasts. Luckily, she’d taken to braiding her hair before bed to keep the mass of it tamed and flipped the tail out the back of her shirt where it hung long and thick down her spine. It would have sucked to deal with if she’d sweated through the mass of it. Looking at the clock, she contemplated going and crawling in bed with Nat but found it… _unappealing_ for some reason and grabbed the soft pink throw from the end of her sofa to toss around her shoulders. She left her suite and wandered through the halls into the common room.

“Ms. Francessca? Is everything alright?”

Friday’s voice made her jolt. “I’m good, Friday, and please, just Franki is fine.” She hadn’t done much conversing with the AI before Tony adding her to Franki’s new suit and had never bothered to correct her until now. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Very good, Franki.”

Sighing softly, Franki wandered into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil before heading towards the doors on the far side of the room that lead out to the balcony. It was too cold to stand at the railing and look out over the city, but she had a pretty decent view right where she was and tugged the pink blanket further around her shoulders.

In the distance, she could make out the dark swath in the center of the sea of lights that was Central Park and smiled in memory. The first date she’d had with Bucky had gone so well, even with the few hiccups, and they had spent another hour just walking through the park, enjoying the quiet and the scenery.  Being with him like that had been so perfect. It had made her so very happy that even now she sighed a sappy little sound and leaned against the window remembering how sweet he’d been taking her to the playground and giving her the chance to swing for the first time. She’d had a lot of firsts with Bucky. First real touches, first kiss, first date. Her first taste of pleasure…

Closing her eyes, she smiled thinking about how his touch made her feel. How her skin just _hummed_ when he was near. How she felt so _alive_ when he touched her. His hands on her body seemed to stroke life into her limbs, spark sensation where once only nothingness lived. He gave her so much with the touch of his callused hands, so much that she wasn’t sure she could ever voice exactly how much it meant to her.

When the kettle began to whistle, she returned to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. The strong scent of mint was soothing, and she cupped the warm mug between her palms before heading back to the windows.

It was interesting to watch the world from above like she was nothing more than an observer and she wondered at the people who were up and moving at this time of night. Where were they going? What stories did they have to tell? Were they like her and couldn’t sleep? Or did they have jobs, loved ones, adventures they were headed to?

“Franki?”

The deep voice broke her from her musings, and she startled, turning swiftly to see Bucky standing a few feet away. Hair dishevelled, he wore only a pair of shorts and a ratty looking t-shirt. It shouldn’t have had him looking so damn delicious. “Bucky? What are you doing up?” she asked, trying not to drool.

He’d been sound asleep, for once, when Friday had alerted him to Francessca’s late night wandering. Why the AI had informed him remained a mystery, but he was grateful she had.

They’d spent a lot of time together over the last few days. Escaping the tower to walk the city she knew so little about. It had been both familiar and new for him as well. Returning to the old neighbourhoods, reminiscing about things that would suddenly come back to him. Memories both good and bad, and ones that made them both laugh like all the alley’s that Steve had had his ass handed to him in. He’d talked about Cap before he was Cap, about the Howling Commandos and their fight against Hydra, about anything and everything he could think of that would make her smile. They’d snuck into the museum that housed the collection of Captain America memorabilia and played tourist, him with a ball cap pulled low, her in the red jacket he’d insisted on buying her.

The coat was a dark red wool peacoat with a big deep hood, very reminiscent of her Reaper garb. He’d watched her eyes light up when she’d seen it in the store’s window, and he’d dragged her bodily inside to try it on. After there was no other choice _but_ to buy it for her for she obviously adored it. His Snow White had turned into Little Red Riding Hood, and with that comment, he’d had to find a bookstore so that she could have copies of both stories. Snow White she knew, Natasha had made her watch the animated movie, but Red was a mystery he’d had to clear up.

It made his chest ache every time he caught the flash of confusion on her face when she didn’t understand something that should have been a part of her childhood. Simple things like swing sets and children’s stories, ice cream cones that melted down your fingers faster than you could eat them, lazy Sunday afternoons when you laid by the radio and listened to the music, or, in his case, to his mother singing hymns after mass as she cooked the pot roast for supper. She’d missed so much, and he’d become determined to give her everything he possibly could.

Seeing her standing by the windows, hair in a thick braid that swung against her pink blanket, had her looking so incredibly young and fresh and innocent. She was fucking adorable with her big eyes and colourful mug. “Couldn’t sleep. You?” Shadows gathered in her eyes before she looked away.

“Me too,” she murmured, sipping at her tea. He moved so silently, she felt the heat of his big frame wash over her only a second before his arms wrapped around her waist and he was drawing her into his chest. Sighing, she leaned her head back against his shoulder. The feeling of numbness, of being dead inside, was gone in an instant when her skin lit up.

Nightmares had been chasing her tonight. He could tell by the slightly haunted look that had crossed her face, and he pressed a comforting brush of lips to her temple. “You okay, baby?” She sagged slightly as if his question weighed too much for her shoulders.

“Bad dreams…” she whispered. There was little point in hiding something he’d already figured out. “They chase me…”

“You want to talk about it?” Bucky murmured, tightening his hold on her. Even with the blanket, she felt cold.

Turning her face, she rested it against his thick pectoral and inhaled the heady scent that seemed to always follow him. “It was my life… China… the same as always. They broke me _… so many times_ … I feel…” Her hands shook, and she pushed her cup on to the bar that ran the length of the window before she dropped it. “I dream… I feel… _nothing_!”

Her voice broke on a sob, and he turned her so what tears fell, fell on him. He’d never seen her just… come apart before. She seemed to crumble all at once, just break open as pain poured from her soul. “It’s alright, baby. You cry it out. You’re not broken, Franki.” He held her as her tears soaked his shirt and her body trembled.

A gasping little breath left her when she managed to whimper, “They make me into _nothing._ I am lying there and can hear the bones breaking, and there is _nothing_! I am dead,” she pounded her fist against her chest, “on the _inside_. I am _dead inside_! There is _nothing_! I _feel_ nothing!”

Her words gutted him. They cut the legs right out from under him with her anguish before he centred himself and growled out, “NO! You’re not _dead inside_ , _moya zvezdochka_! You are _alive_ and warm, and you feel, Franki! You feel me!” Using both hands, he captured her face and held her still, staring into silver eyes gone nearly icy with grief and the tears that streamed from them. “You feel me…” he murmured before lowering his lips to hers and kissing her with all the tenderness he could muster.

“You’re not dead, _malyutka,_ ” he whispered against the corner of her lips. “You are warm,” he drew his lips across her cheek. “And soft,” he murmured against her jaw. “You feel me, don’t ya, doll face?” he purred against her throat as his hand skimmed down her arm, brushing her blanket out of the way.

“I feel you, _snegopad_ … you make me _live_ again.” She breathed him in, hands clutching at his shoulders. “You give me life… _Bucky…_ ” she moaned softly when his mouth closed over her pulse. Her whole being just hummed with electricity. “You’re touch… makes me _whole_.”

Lifting her up, he sat her on the narrow ledge that ran the length of the windows, knocking her mug to the side, somehow managing not to dump her forgotten tea everywhere, and stepped between her thighs. His hands clamped around her waist, and he looked up into pale eyes. “You stop me, _malen'kaya ten'_ , if it gets to be too much but I am going to touch you, Franki. I need to. I have to. I can’t help myself.”

There were no words for how she felt when he looked at her like that. Like he was desperate to get his hands on her. Like he would take down an entire squadron of soldiers just to touch the softness of her skin. Lips parted, breath coming in soft pants, she wrapped her hands behind his neck and yanked him forwards.

The kiss they shared was feverish, a frenzy of clashing lips and tongues, soft bites and harder suckles of swollen lips. His mouth descended to her throat, and Franki sank her fingers into his unruly locks when stubble scrapped against her and shot a bolt of pleasure through her so hard she had to groan softly in response. Teeth closed over her pulse, strong suction pulled against her skin, and she cried out as more sensation drove straight to her core. “Oh, _Bucky!_ ” His hands had long since found their way beneath her shirt and had stroked fires to life all over her body. Everything tingled and throbbed, ached and burned in a way she’d never felt before. But it all felt so good, so right, she was loathe to stop him doing what he wished.

Then his hips rocked forwards, and she could suddenly feel the ridged length of hard flesh that bespoke his arousal. He was hard and fully erect, his cock hot and pressing against a part of her that she’d only ever known about in theory, but when he rocked his hips into hers, she was suddenly vividly aware that the most potent of her pleasure centers were not anywhere he’d touched previously. “Oh, god!” she panted softly, her knees squeezing tight against his hips to hold him there.

Dragging his metal hand down to her buttock, he held her on the edge of the shelf, pinned between his hand and his hip and pulled back only enough to see her and the mark he’d placed upon her throat. “Damn… that’s pretty.” The hickey was vividly purple and red, and it disappointed him that it wouldn’t last long. Returning to her eyes, he watched them roll back when he rubbed his cock against her barely there shorts. Wetness was pooling so swiftly between them that he could smell her arousal. She looked absolutely wrecked in the most beautiful way possible. “Franki…”

“Bucky, _please_!” She was wound so tight, and every time he rocked against her just felt so good. “I don’t… I can’t… it’s so _good_!”

“Fuck!” he hissed softly. “You’re killing me, baby. I need to go slow with you. You’ve never done this before, and you’re going to feel stuff, strong stuff, that’s going to make you a bit crazy.” Wanda had been most insistent that he didn’t rush her.

“It aches, Bucky!” she pleaded, drawing his lips back to hers. “It aches and I don’t understand…” She’d never felt so good and so unfulfilled in her entire life.

“Okay, okay, _moya zvezdochka._ ” He kissed her repeatedly, plucking and playing with her lips as she rocked against him, making him fucking nuts with how wet she’d become. “I’m going to touch, baby. Touch you right there, and you’re going to talk to me as I do. You’re going to tell me if it gets to be too much.”

“ _Da, snegopad_! _Da,_ Bucky!” She would beg soon if he didn’t do something to end the churning, aching, bombardment of sensation that was going on inside her.

“Let go with your knees, doll,” He murmured, dropping both hands to her hips. Once she released him, he slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband of her shorts and drew them down, scooting them out from beneath her to her knees and letting them fall to the floor. She was so damn trusting, so fucking beautiful, that he was hard pressed not to just sink to his knees and press his face into her, but he didn’t think she’d handle that well, not yet. It was only then he noticed the shirt she had on and arched a brow in amusement. “Really, Franki?”

Her hands had fallen to his shoulders when he stepped back, and she tugged at his shirt. “You really care about that _now_?”

Her eyes were wild, and he leaned in to kiss her because who cared what shirt she had on? He was the one between her legs after all. When she tried to close her knees on his hips again, he stopped her, hands on her thighs spreading her apart, drawing them slowly up her silky skin. Her arms rested on his shoulders, hands on his neck or in his hair, Franki panted heavily, her forehead pressed to his and her breath washing across his lips. Her muscles quivered, and he brushed his nose over hers. “You with me, baby?”

“Oh, god, Bucky…” Her toes wanted to curl she felt so good. “Please don’t stop…” When the warmth of his flesh hand finally hit the apex of her thighs, she gave a high pitched whine of such pleasure, she couldn’t believe the sound had come from her.

Petting her gently, Bucky held his grin in check and murmured, “You like that, Franki? Does it feel good?”

“ _Da!_ ” His fingers circled gently, and she moaned, her body jolting with the contact.

She was soaking, dripping wet for him and he slipped his middle finger between her folds to find her aroused bundle of nerves. He was so damn hard he was near to bursting in his shorts, but he was nothing if not focused and right now was about her. When he finally found the little nub, a single circle of it had her body arching in glorious sensation as she bowed away from him towards the window. “There it is. There’s the first spot.”

More pleasure pounded through her than she’d ever thought possible and Franki moaned deeply, tightening the grip she had on Bucky’s hair. When she managed to crack open her eyelids and look down, his pupils were huge, his eyes dark, and rampant excitement covered his features. “Fuck… _James_ ,” she whispered, arching and writhing back when he circled her again.

She was slowly coming undone, and he could see the hard press of engorged nipples through the thin cotton of her shirt. Leaning forwards he closed his mouth over one and was rewarded with a harsh gasp and tug of his hair. Biting softly, he played with her through her shirt as he gently circled her little button.

“Oh… oh my…” Franki panted, feeling a tightening sensation building in her belly. Pleasure poured from everywhere, throbbing and thrumming through her body like a bass drum.

“More?” he murmured against her chest, switching to the other breast.

“ _Da_!” she cried out and felt the coolness of metal caress her. Hard and smooth, it pierced slowly through her lips and pressed deep inside, a strange but wonderful sensation that made her groan and arch her body, hips rocking forwards. “Bucky!” she squealed when that metal finger began to stroke in and out, grazing nerves and points of pleasure she hadn’t known existed.

“That’s the second one, baby,” he murmured, lifting his head to watch her fly. “You going to come for me, doll?” He could feel the tightening of her walls as her breathing changed to gasping little breaths and continued his torment of stroke and circle. Curling his finger, he found the last of her major pleasure spots and pressed against it. Her eyes widened, mouth falling open, and her nails suddenly dug into his shoulders. “And there’s the third. You with me, baby?”

“Buck… _Bucky_!” she squeaked as all the sensations grew to overwhelm her.

He switched his grip, his metal hand continued to play with her, thrusting a finger deep, rubbing the spot inside her, and retreating while his thumb now started to play with her pearl. His flesh hand went to her skull, cupping it in his big palm as her eyes clamped closed. “Easy, _malyutka._ Let it happen. Don’t fight it.” Drawing her in, he began to gently kiss her lips, plucking and pulling, licking at her teasingly until she let him in. Then, while the fluttering of her walls started around his finger and the bud beneath his thumb swelled further, he slowly made love to her mouth. Dragging his tongue over every surface, seeking every nook and cranny, he worshiped the woman that she was until her body slowly started to arch into his and she tightened further around his finger.

Pulling back only a hair’s breathed from her lips, he looked into dark silver eyes and murmured, “Come for me, Francessca. Let go. I’ve got you, baby.” And she did. _Gloriously_. Her body arched, her eyes went wide, and she clamped down around his finger so hard he groaned. A keening wail of intense pleasure fell from her lips, and a flush washed over all her skin. Then the spasms started, and he gently thrust into her, helping her ride out her first ever orgasm. 

Her mind went white with the sensation. It was like everything good and right and perfect in her world coalesced into glorious release before exploding outwards to fill her up. Every part of her, every cell and molecule throbbed with sensation. Every atom was _alive_ for what felt like the first time in her entire existence. Nothing was numb. Nothing was dead. Nothing felt hollow or empty. She simply… _felt_. It was the most beautiful thing to ever happen to her.

“ _Snegopad…”_ she whispered, going limp against his warm, comforting chest.

“That good, huh?” he teased gently, but when the moisture dampened his collar, he gently extracted his hand from her core, an action that made her shudder, and brought the finger to his lips. He didn’t have the option of savouring the taste of her, not when tears were again raining down, but he would take the flavour of his woman in and know it. Sticking the finger in his mouth, he nearly groaned aloud for she was _heaven_. Sweet and tart and just… _everything_. Sucking it clean far quicker than he would have liked, Bucky cradled her close and stroked her spine. “ _Malen'kaya ten'_? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” she breathed against his throat. “I am… _alive_. I feel… _everything_.” It was beyond her capacity to express how good she felt.

Smiling, Bucky managed to shift her shorts from the floor with his foot to his hand before drawing them back up her legs without ever letting go. Somehow he got them over her hips without dropping her off the shelf and then managed to collect her – blanket, teacup, and all – into his arms. She was pretty much asleep against him, and he wasn’t about to disturb the afterglow she was riding. “Let’s go to bed, _moya zvezdochka._ ”

“Hmm,” she murmured, snuggling up against him, throwing an arm around his neck. “ _Da, ya tebya lyublyu_ , Bucky.”

He stopped instantly and snapped his eyes down to her face. The serene smile she wore, her eyes closed, melted his heart. “Franki?”

“ _Da…”_ she murmured, half asleep.

“Did you mean it?” he asked heart in his throat.

“ _Da._ _Lyublyu tebya vsem sertsem, vsey dushoyu._ ” She loved him with all her heart, with all her soul. Yawning, she turned her face into his chest. “You smell like winter in Siberia. Snow and smoke. I have always loved the snow,” she murmured.

“Damn. You are adorable,” he chuckled. Clearly, she was exhausted, her mind muddled up, but he was going to hold her to her muttered confession. Leaning down near her ear, he murmured, “I love you too, Franki. So fucking much it makes me stupid.”

“Mmm. That’s good,” she sighed, “And loving is not what makes you do the stupid things.”

She exhaled deeply, and he knew she was asleep, but he could only stand there grinning down at her. Even blissed out of her mind she still managed to tease him. “You’re going to be trouble, _malyutka_. For the rest of my life, you’re going to be nothing but trouble.” And he didn’t care one wit if she was because she was his and he was damn well going to keep her.

Shaking his head, Bucky headed for the kitchen, juggled sleeping woman and teacup to dump the latter in the sink before heading for his rooms. There was no reason to take her back to hers, not one that he wanted to think up at any rate. There were only a few hours left till most of the team would be up and he figured they’d rest better together. And, he wanted her there, in his bed with her scent on his sheets.

Stalking into his suite, Bucky shut the door softly behind him and skirted the sofa, making his way through the dark room easily. His blankets were tossed back, still, and he placed Francessca down on his bed. It had taken him years to get used to having a bed again. It was too soft, too squishy, too… _nice_. He’d slept on the floor for a while, curled up with a blanket, migrated to a chair once he’d grown more adjusted to the space, moved on to the couch once that had gotten uncomfortable, and had only just gotten used to the big bed a year or so back. Now, he felt spoiled because when they went on the missions that saw them roughing it, he missed his bed. It was a stupid thing to miss, but he did.

Seeing Franki in it was going to make it even harder to leave now.

Covering her gently, he watched her roll into a ball, tuck her face into his pillow, and nearly groaned when she purred like a kitten. Taking a fortifying breath, he stalked silently into the bathroom where he stripped naked and chucked his soiled boxers at the hamper. She’d come around his finger and he’d lost it in his underwear like a fifteen-year-old virgin. Thank god she hadn’t noticed. But he’d watched her come undone, felt her splinter apart in the most magnificent way, and hadn’t been able to control the visceral reaction of his body at watching his woman reach her peak for the very first time. It had been… _magnificent._

Cleaning up, he made his way silently back into the room to retrieve a fresh pair of boxers before circling the bed and crawling in behind Franki. The braid she wore was thick and long and he had intense visions of wrapping it around his fist as he thrust repeatedly into her sweet, tight body. It was a thought that had him instantly semi-hard again and he sighed, knowing he done it to himself. Sighing a second time, he curled himself around Franki and drew her in close. Resting his flesh hand against her stomach, he slipped the metal one beneath her pillow and buried his nose in the delectable scent that was her hair, unaware of the goofy grin that was plastered on his face when he dozed off.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Nine

* * *

 Folding in the middle, Franki dove under the water and pushed against the wall with her feet as she started a new lap.

It had been nearly three weeks since the morning she’d woken up in Bucky’s bed. She’d come awake to find her pillow much too warm, rising and falling beneath her ear, a steady beat thumping away in it, and had lifted her head to discover her arm wrapped low over Bucky’s waist and her pillow his spectacular abdominals. Her leg was thrown over his thigh, her knee resting dangerously close to a vital part of his anatomy, and her foot was snuggled up in the space between his calves. She was wrapped around him like a creeper vine and snapped her eyes to his face in shock. Blue eyes had been watching her with amusement, and she was sure she’d blushed as red as Nat’s hair.

Then, the rest of the night had come crashing back, and she’d scrambled upright, nearly falling backwards off the mattress, before the super soldier in the bed with her had leapt into action, and she found herself pinned beneath him.

“Running, _malyutka_? That’s not like you.”

His eyes had still contained amusement, but there was a hint of rejection and pain there, something she never wanted to be responsible for and instantly softened her rigid body. “Just surprised, _snegopad_ , not running.”

“Really?”

He’d looked so uncertain, so skeptical and wary, she slipped her hands from between them, running them up his chest, over all that hard flesh to wrap behind his neck and pull his head down to hers. “ _Da_. Why run from the one who has already caught me?” She’d felt gloriously _alive_ with him pressed against her. All that hot, hard muscle hers for the touching. His smile was so big she thought it might crack his face and she giggled, shifting her fingers to his cheek. “Did you mean it?” she whispered, teeth worrying her lip. She may have been tired and said things she hadn’t necessarily been meaning to say so soon, yet she had meant every word. But had he?

“That I’m stupidly in love with you? Yeah.”

He’d nodded, his hair falling around his face, and she pulled him down to kiss him. Her heart had been so very full and her body so very awake, she’d wanted nothing more than to repeat their experience from the night before but with Bucky making love with her instead of only to her. “I want you, _snegopad,_ ” she murmured against his lips as his big hand snuck beneath her shirt to cup her breast and tweak the rapidly responding nipple.

“Are you sure, doll face? I don’t want to rush you.”

She’d arched into his palm when the delicious rush of heat and need streaked to her center. “Yes! I want you, Bucky!”

Those words had barely cleared her lips when a pounding had started on the outer door, and Steve had come charging in. Bucky had been up and off of her in a flash, his hand gripping the bedroom door tightly as he blocked the view of her in his bed and intercepted his best friend.

“Bucky! We’ve got to go! Grab your gear.”

Those eight words had plunged a dagger in her chest, and she’d grown instantly cold. Bucky, Cap, and Sam were heading out on a mission that would see them gone roughly three weeks. It was important, they always were, but it couldn’t have come at a worse possible time. He’d placated Steve, telling Cap that he’d meet him and Sam at the quinjet in ten minutes, and had to nearly throw his best friend from the room when Steve had insisted on helping Bucky get his gear together. They all knew Bucky had an exceptional amount of weapons that he carried, but this one time he _really_ didn’t need the assistance and had practically kicked Captain America out the door.

It would have been funny if her heart hadn’t been breaking.

Even now the memory of rising from his bed and moving to the wall of weapons, swiftly taking them down, checking them, and placing them in the duffle he liked to use, was a bittersweet one.

He had been stunned that she knew him so well. That she could pick and place exactly what he would want and she had smiled a small twitch of lips, commenting on how she would make an excellent assassin’s housewife. She couldn’t make a decent sandwich, but she could pack a weapon’s carryall with the best of them.

His arms had wrapped around her, and she’d held them to her chest, fighting the need to cry, knowing it would only make things harder. This was his job. Their job. It was their life, and they would adjust. The week they’d had together, learning and falling deeper in love had been wonderful. Now, reality was intruding. He’d kissed her cheek and left her to her task, going and getting dressed; strapping on his tactical gear.

The vest was a gift from the King of Wakanda and had been lined with vibranium. There wasn’t a bullet on earth that could pierce that armour, none that they knew of at least, and when he returned to her in his gear, booted feet and heavy cargo style pants, holsters and straps waiting empty, she turned back to the wall and shelving. Pulling down the Gerber Mark II knife, she thrust it into the sheath on his right thigh, the Benchmade dagger followed. Two more blades went into the sheaths at his low back, a SIG Sauer into the holster on his left hip. A COP.357 Derringer was shoved into the holster on his right hip and an Intratec TEC 38 into the straps beneath it. Grenades were tucked into the loops along his belt before she started adding extra clips and magazines.

When she was finished, when nothing was missed or misplaced, she placed her hands on the shining silver plates of his arm and drew them slowly downwards. “Will you need the Barrett?” she’d asked, her voice betraying her when it had broken.

He’d reached above her head and taken it from the wall, but she knew his eyes had never left her, just as hers had not been able to lift back to that vibrant blue gaze once since he’d stood for her to kit him out. The Barrett had dropped on top of the rest before his hand had found her cheek. She’d looked up then, finally, and into blue eyes so full of… _everything_ , she’d been unable to stop the hitch in her breathing or the way her eyes had watered.

He’d kissed her, soft, tender brushes falling into deeper, sultry pulls and she’d swayed into him. He may have been packing more weapons than any one person would see in a lifetime, but that mattered little when he’d wrapped her braid around his hand and tugged her head back. She’d thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him like her life depended on it. Like _his_ _life_ depended on it.

“Franki…”

His time was up, and she knew it, but _dear god it was hard_! “You come back to me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

_“Ya vlyubilsya f tyebya s pyervava f sglyada,_ ” he murmured against her cheek.

“At first sight?” How could he have fallen for her at first sight when first sight was in her private hell?

“The moment you looked at me with these eyes,” he held her gaze and searched deep, “I just knew. I love you, Franki. There’s nothing that will stop me from coming back to you.”

He’d kissed her then. Deep, hard, long, and drugging, before he’d lifted his head and looked down at her with eyes grown dark with passion and growled out that he expected her to sleep in his bed while he was gone. That his sheets better smell like her when he returned, or he’d be very annoyed. Then he’d plucked up the Barrett, the duffle full of weapons, and a second bag of clothes and was gone out the door.

It wasn’t until hours later that Natasha finally found her curled up on the floor, tears dampening the carpet beneath her. It had felt like someone had ripped away the sun. Like she had finally been granted a reprieve from the darkness, been allowed to step into the light, only to have it jerked away from her. It was a cruel joke.

The first week he was gone was a new level of hell. She couldn’t even talk to him. They were radio silent, and it had driven her nearly mad with worry. That week she’d refused to sleep in his bed. What would the others think? How foolish it would seem. They’d dated all of a week at that point, it wasn’t like they were married or something.

She’d had the worst of the worst nightmares that week, and not even Natasha’s presence had been able to keep them at bay. By the end of the sixth night, she’d given in and crawled into Bucky’s bed. It smelled like him, and she’d had the first decent night’s sleep in a week.

Vision and Wanda left the next week. Their mission a recon one that didn’t require either her or Nat’s expertise. That was fine by Franki. She didn’t think she could concentrate long enough to be of any help as it was.

That week had seen her ghosting around the tower. Sleep had been elusive, even in Bucky’s bed, and she’d taken to wandering into Tony’s lab at odd hours.

He’d been kind again, though he tried to be condescending and snide, and had taken her under his wing, showing her all kinds of neat tech things. While she knew computers well enough to get by and do her job, she was indeed no genius, but he had her working on simple things, small welds, connecting circuitry, grunt work that kept her hands and mind occupied. And they had talked.

At first, it was small things, likes and dislikes. Movies she’d seen and should see. Then, Tony had started to talk about the battle with the Chitari, about taking the nuke through the portal, and about nearly dying. He’d talked about panic attacks and how hard it had been, how they came out of nowhere and were often triggered by the littlest things.

Franki had listened in fascination and just the slightest bit of sadness. He had been through a lot, more than she’d ever expected. Then he’d talked about Pepper and the Mandarin, Ultron, the Sokovian Accords, fighting with Cap and learning about Bucky, and the cost of such a battle – namely Rhodes and the injuries he had suffered, as well as the rift within the team and the good friends he’d nearly lost.

Because of his honesty, his openness, it had allowed her to do the same. She’d talked a bit about her life in the Red Room and about going to China with the others. About fighting the Weapons and how hard it was to continually be on guard.

One particularly dark night she’d sat on his sofa and talked about what it was like to feel… _nothing_. It was both cathartic and draining. She’d talked as he’d worked and hadn’t realized how much she’d said until her voice gave out. He’d stopped working and sat with her. Just sat quietly, but Tony didn’t do quiet or still well or for long, and he had jumped up and motioned her back to the welds he’d tasked her with once the silence grew too heavy.

It had made her chuckle softly and sigh in relief because he hadn’t made it weird or awkward, just accepted what she’d said and put her back to work. The bonus came when he reached for her hand that night, unthinkingly, to adjust her weld and she simply accepted it.

It wasn’t until after the fact that she had stopped, stunned, to stare at the billionaire like he had three heads. Just to make sure, she’d held out her hand to him, and he’d touched it gently. Her shiver at the contact had been minor, and she’d laughed before she’d cried, and he’d danced her around the room.

The third week was better but no less heart-wrenching. Tony had put her to work on the hard drive she’d stolen from the Hydra base so many weeks prior. It was encrypted, and she was slogging her way through the protocols to unlock it. Again, she wasn’t a tech genius, and she didn’t know why he’d stuck her with the task, all she knew was by the time she’d developed a headache, she’d wanted nothing more than to throw the whole freaking works across the room. Friday had offered assistance after that, and she accepted, gratefully, retreating to swim laps in the pool and clear her head.

Tony had informed them only a few days ago that he was throwing a Halloween Party the same night that the teams were due to return and, yes, it was costume mandatory. Having no idea what one wore for a Halloween costume, her arrival in the tower coming after the candy coma-inducing holiday, she’d done an internet search and, armed with a fount of new knowledge, had found a costume shop not too far away that she and Natasha could visit.

It had been an interesting experience, to say the least. Natasha was nothing if not thorough, having been a spy, and insisted every aspect of their costumes were perfect. Price was not an issue as Tony was footing the bill and they’d spent a fun afternoon digging through dusty racks. Well, Nat had dug. Franki had done her best to stay out of the other customer’s way. There had been a lot, and she was practically on sensory overload by the time Natasha pronounced she was satisfied.

Franki had spent nearly three hours in the pool after their little adventure. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said her skin _hurt_. Natasha had been busy with some news release, or press conference, or something and had been unavailable to spar with. Franki had desperately needed someone she could fight to shut down the sensitivity, but Tony was busy, Peter was in school, and everyone else was gone, so the pool had been her only option.

It had since become her drug of choice. The cool fluid moving over her was just enough stimulation to be felt, like a gentle caress. The pressure was perfect, and on the nights she couldn’t sleep, she had taken to floating in the water. Floating and thinking about Bucky.

She turned and started a new lap. Nothing about it made sense. Bucky had left the tower before, had gone on missions, longer ones even than this one, but she had never felt so despondent before. Never felt like someone had ripped out her heart and stomped on it. It was like a part of her was missing. Like they’d torn off her arm, her leg, her heart. A vital piece was just… _gone_.

It _hurt_.

Where once she had never felt pain, this _felt_ like dying. She couldn’t sleep, could hardly eat, and had lost weight since he’d been gone. Natasha was worried, so was Tony, but she brushed their concern aside. What could she say? That she was _heartsick_? That she felt like she’d taken a bullet to her chest when she didn’t even know what a gunshot felt like? How could she explain that it was like someone had broken her in half when, really, after everything she’d gone through in China, _this_ was suddenly the hardest thing she’d ever done?

Reaching the center of the pool, Franki let her feet drop, and she floated there, treading water, tears streaming down her face as a sob caught in her throat. _What the hell was wrong with her?_

In the control room of the tower, Natasha stood shoulder to shoulder with Tony and watched, heartbreaking in two, as Franki swam to the side of the pool and sobbed into her arms.

“This isn’t right,” Natasha murmured. Franki was acting like Bucky had died, not just left on a mission.

“You’ve got that right. What the hell is going on?” Franki was tough, a fighter. She didn’t crumble and fall to pieces or waste away like this. Sure Tony knew she and Barnes had a thing, who didn’t? But to see her just fall apart over the man was so very wrong.

“Try Cap,” Natasha muttered. They should be heading home by this point. Radio silence was no longer needed, and this constituted an emergency if she’d ever seen one. Stark flicked his hand at one of the many screens and waited.

“Hey,” Steve answered, looking a little beat up. “Was just about to call you.”

“How’d it go?” Nat asked.

“We cleared them out, rescued the hostages, but… it was a rough go.” Steve’s eyes darted to the left before returning to the screen.

Frowning, Tony murmured, “What’s wrong?”

Sighing, Steve slowly shook his head before turning the camera so they could see the form of the Winter Soldier. He was sprawled out over the seats of the quinjet like he’d been dumped there haphazardly. “Something… _weird_ is going on.”

“Damn…” Natasha hissed. “He’s not hurt is he?”

“Nah. I had to knock his ass out when we got done. He hasn’t slept more than… ten hours this week, if that.”

She could hear Sam’s snort from the cockpit before his irate voice called out, “How the hell he kept going is a miracle!”

“What?” Tony asked, shocked.

“Bucky… he’s…” Steve didn’t know how to explain it.

“Walking around like the living dead? Not sleeping, not eating, and throwing himself into anything physical because it’s the only thing that keeps him sane?” Scrubbing her hands over her face, Nat sank into a chair.

“Yeah!” Steve looked as shocked as he sounded. “When we went in to take this group of mercenaries out… I haven’t seen him fight like that since… before.” He didn’t have to explain which before. Bucky had been single-minded, a terror, and so brutally efficient it had almost felt pointless to have all three of them there. “They had women and children in cages, it was the only thing that gave him pause, and then he was just…”

“Shit…” Tony hissed, dropping down beside Nat. “Franki’s… she’s like living with the walking wounded.”

“She’s becoming a damn ghost, Steve. She won’t eat, barely sleeps. Spends _hours_ swimming laps… _what the hell is this?_ ” Natasha snarled, slamming her fist down on her thigh.

“I’m going to call in Helen. She needs to look at them both. Something is going on with them, and it didn’t start until they got together.” Tony was already up and moving, phone in hand, ordering Friday to have the jet on standby to leave as soon as possible.

“We’re on our way back. Be there by eight.” Steve nodded, determination hardening his features.

“Costume party tonight.” Nat smirked, “I picked out everything you gentleman will need.”

“Nat…” Steve sighed, “Is that a good idea?” If they didn’t know what was wrong with Bucky and Franki, was throwing a party really the right thing to do?

“Too late to cancel. Just,” she waved her hand at Bucky, “Clean him up, get him dressed, and hall his ass upstairs. Franki will be there waiting for him. She went costume shopping with me. The only thing she’s shown an interest in since you guys left. Don’t fuck this up, Steve.”

“Natasha.” He just looked at her.

“Bye!” She grinned and hung up on him.

************

Bucky walked into his room and slammed the door shut. It wasn’t often Cap pulled rank and the fact that he had chosen to _now_ of all times pissed him off. There was nothing he wanted more right this second then to find Franki and finish what they’d started three weeks ago.

He _ached_ all over. Every cell in his body _hurt_ with how badly he needed to see her. The last three weeks had been hell, and they were finally over, but instead of finding his _little shadow_ and stripping every stitch of clothing from them both, he was being forced to clean up, dress up, and go to some damn party that Tony was throwing. The only thing that made it even _remotely_ worth his while was when Steve had made mention that Franki had been excited about it. She wanted to be there and had gone costume shopping with Nat.

The fact that she’d gone _out_ at all made him happy. He hated the idea that she would retreat back to her former ways and avoid leaving the tower when she’d been doing so well and had been so happy to be out in the city with him. Her enthusiasm was, quite literally, the _only_ reason he was doing this.

Dropping all his stuff by his weapon’s wall, Bucky started divesting himself of his weapons, putting everything that needed cleaning to one side. He would have done it all on the flight back if Cap hadn’t clipped him in the head with his shield.

_Accident my ass_. Steve Rogers didn’t just _accidentally_ smack anyone in the head, especially not with his shield. The damn thing was an extension of his arm and, as Peter had once put it, defied the laws of physics.

At least the forced rest had done him some good.

He knew there was something off with him. God, how could he _not_ know, but he didn’t know what and how was he to explain to his best friend that it felt like someone had ripped the most vital part of himself way? That he had never done anything as hard as walk away from Franki three weeks ago.

She’d been so damn strong. He’d never been more impressed with anyone than he was with her when, after he’d kicked Steve from his room, he turned around only to find her standing before his weapons filling his go bag with the efficiency of one who just _knew_. It had stunned him. How could she possibly know him so well? Her comment about being an assassin’s housewife had caused his heart to clench violently, his eyes falling to her bare left hand, and deep, long locked away desires to suddenly resurface.

He’d needed to hold her, touch her one more time before he faced his duty. The fact that she’d held his arms to her, clutched them tightly, had damn near broken his resolve. But he’d kissed her temple and walked away to get ready. This was his life, their life, and he had a duty to Steve and the team. One he couldn’t deny.

And, when he’d returned to her… _dear god_ , it had been both pleasure and torment to stand there and watch her fill every sheath, every holster, every strap, exactly as he would.

She _knew_ him.

She knew it all, and it filled him with an emotion that was nothing but bittersweet. Then, her voice had wavered… and it tore at him. It broke something inside him. Just opened a wound that seemed to bleed for days and even now still wept.

It was as if everything that was good and right and pure in his world was left behind with her. Had stayed behind in his room when he’d walked out. She’d been so strong but her sweet voice asking him, begging him, to come back to her… it had nearly driven him to his knees.

He loved her more for that. She wasn’t trying to stop him from going, she never would, but she would be there for him when he came back. She needed him as much as he needed her.

The demand to have her sleeping in his bed was as much for his own sanity as it was for her comfort. Imagining her there, curled up, safe, waiting for him, had gotten him through many long nights.  

His head came up like a wolf on the hunt, and he turned towards his room, shedding gear and clothing as he went. Standing in the doorway, he took a deep breath and closed his flesh hand around the doorframe.

Frost and vanilla. She’d stayed.

A nearly feline purr of pleasure escaped his throat. She was close. A few floors away and he need only change and go to her.

Striding into the bathroom, he paused when he noticed a brush that wasn’t his, a bottle of lotion that when he smelt it was where her vanilla scent came from, and more vanilla scented products in his shower. It was little things, but she was there. She wasn’t a dream or a fantasy. She was real, and she was _close_. Bucky wasn’t sure he had _ever_ showered so quickly.

With a towel around his waist, he stalked back to his bed and narrowed his eyes at the garment bag hanging from the door. Natasha better not have left him something stupid.

Jerking down the zipper, he peered inside, cocked his head, and smiled. “That will do.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Ten

* * *

Sitting at the bar, Franki played with the rim of her glass. The martini she was drinking wasn’t going down well, not with the nerves that filled her belly. He’d be back today, tonight, and she wondered what Bucky would think of her costume. It was by far the most _risqué_ thing she’d ever worn, and Natasha had squealed for joy upon completion.

She’d done it for Bucky, but now that she was here, it seemed to attract _way_ too much attention of the male variety, and she’d escaped to the VIP section that Tony had reserved for the Avengers to congregate when the regular crowd grew taxing.

Only Stark would have what basically allotted to a nightclub on the uppermost level of one of his buildings. It was rented out occasionally for functions and events but usually sat empty, just waiting for another one of Tony’s wild parties to get underway. She didn’t mind it most of the time. The windows overlooked the city, and she could easily escape outside or back to their section of the tower if the people got overwhelming. She was _Reaper_ after all. It wasn’t exactly difficult to disappear.

But tonight Franki had drawn a host of unwanted attention and no matter how cold she’d been in her rejection the men just kept coming on to her. _Stupid outfit_. What had she been thinking?

Running her finger around the rim of her glass, she sighed. She’d been thinking about Bucky and the way he would look at her. How his eyes would darken, and a smirk would twitch his lips. How he would pace towards her with that sultry murder strut of his, something Nat had once referred to as _panty dropping_ that her _sestra_ had then had to explain. Franki could now say with certainty that, _yes_ , it most definitely was. She was growing heated just thinking about him stalking towards her with that powerful stride and focused gaze.

“Hey.” Steve sank down beside her and smirked a little grin at her outfit. “I guess I can see why you’re hiding.”

“Steve!” Franki nearly launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing tight. “You’re back!”

Stunned, he gave her a short hug and nodded slowly. “Yeah, just.” When she sat back, he grinned brightly. “Well, that was a surprise.”

It was for her as well, and she blinked a couple of times before a smile twitched her lips. “Perhaps you should go away more often?”

“Hey! That ain’t very nice.” But he couldn’t help but grin. He gave her a sharper once over and could see the hollowness beneath her makeup, the startling clarity of her collarbone, and the circles that darkened her eyes. She looked, for those who wouldn’t know better, like she’d been sick. But he wasn’t about to say so, not when she appeared so excited. “Dance?” he asked instead, nodding towards the floor that had a few couples out on it. The music was decently slow, and he _really_ wanted to see Bucky’s face when his friend got a load of her.

He held out his hand, and Franki hesitated to touch it. Her reaction to seeing him after so long had been all instinct and had bypassed her inner demons because she knew if he were here Bucky wouldn’t be far behind. But she had touched him once, without fear, without her skin crawling, without even flinching, and she reached for his hand slowly. Once they touched, she shivered, but the panicky sensation never came, and she smiled while tightening her grip. He was Steve, Cap, the leader of her team and _bleyy rystra’,_ a name that truly fit him tonight. “You’re looking quite dashing, _Sir_ Rogers.”

His fingers closed around hers, and he laughed as he tugged her to her feet, unable not to notice how terribly cold she was. “Was this your idea or Nat’s?” He was decked out like a knight from the round table complete with a sword hanging from his hip and a shield slung across his back.

“Joint effort,” she smiled, following him to the dance floor where he spun her, causing her costume to swing wildly around before it settled and she took his other hand.

He didn’t try to put his hands on her waist or back, not wanting to push his luck, and drew her into to a gentle sway that kept her back to the doors. “So, what’s been happening here since we left?” Shadows flickered in her eyes, but before he could comment, she was talking about time spent with Tony and all she’d learned in the lab.

“You turning into a tech geek on us, Franki?” he teased.

The blue-eyed blond smirked at her and made her chuckle softly. “I’ll leave that to Tony.”

“That’s good,” Steve glanced past her to where Tony was surrounded by a flock of women. “You pick his outfit, too?”

She snorted and shook her head. “He is channelling his _inner rock star_. Apparently, all that takes is a Metallica t-shirt and a glass of scotch.”

“Sounds like Stark,” he snickered. “What about Sam?” He’d yet to see what the Falcon was coming as. By the grin that split her face, he knew it would be worth the wait.

“Let’s just say… it was a no-brainer.” She smiled softly, shrugging one shoulder.

A small disturbance caused him to glance towards the doors, and he smirked when he murmured, “What about Buck? You pick his costume?”

“Natasha did. I was not allowed a say,” Franki pouted.

He chuckled softly, drawing his eyes off his best friend stalking slowly through the crowd. They parted before him, and Steve could see why. He looked dangerous, debonair, and classier than he’d ever seen Buck look. “Looks like she did a pretty good job,” he murmured and spun her around.

Franki locked in on him quickly and gasped. He looked amazing. “Bucky…” she whispered.

Steve released her hands but not before he noted how they warmed almost instantly.  Everything about her lit up, and she appeared to glow. Happiness just _radiated_ from her. Looking to Bucky, his friend having paused in his stride to stare in shocked wonder, he could see nearly the same thing happen to Buck. The sallow skin and hollow, despairing eyes simply disappeared when he looked at her. _What the hell was going on_? Dr. Cho couldn’t arrive soon enough in his estimation.

* * *

Bucky swallowed hard around the lump that had appeared in his throat. He’d zeroed in on her the moment the doors from the elevator had opened. How could he not? It was like he was drawn to her from across the room and when enough bodies had cleared to see her dancing with Steve, he’d smirked a small grin because she was wearing a red hooded cape that fell to the floor. Then, Cap turned her around, and he’d felt his libido storm into life. _Lord… have… mercy._

A white peasant blouse hugged her upper arms leaving her shoulders and neck bare. A black corset over a deep red dress showcased her tiny waist and lifted her breasts to swell in gentle mounds. The dress flared at her hips over what appeared to be inches of crinoline that fluffed it out into a full skirt that barely fell to mid-thigh. High white stockings with black bows ended a few inches below the bottom of her dress, caressed her toned legs, and flowed into black Mary-Jane’s. He had a flash of memory, his mother in her Sunday best with shoes precisely like that.

Shaking his head, Bucky looked back up to her face and started forwards again. Her beautiful hair was curled tighter than usual, heavy ringlets pinned up and around her face, falling in long waves over her shoulder and down past her cape. Someone had pinned the hood to her hair for there was no way it was that gravity-defying. It was a crushed velvet that shimmered and moved with her, caressed her bare arms, and swung at her ankles, but it was her face he focused on. Her eyes were enormous, darkened with liner and heavy shadow, a bright blush coloured her cheeks, and her lush red lips had been glossed, so they glistened in the shifting lights of the dance floor.

His hands were reaching for her when they came together, one lightly touching her mass of curls, the other going around her waist. “Are you rationed, doll? _”_ he murmured.

Tracing her hands down his chest, a slow smile filling her face, Franki shook her head. “You still have not explained that saying.”

Chuckling, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Are you taken, baby?” Her shiver went unseen, but he could feel it through his hand.

“ _Da,_ ” she breathed against his cheek. “By my Winter Solider.” The rumbled growl that rolled in his chest set her swaying into him.

Lifting his head, he looked down on sultry silver eyes. “ _Moya zvezdochka,_ I missed you.”

Reaching up, she stroked his stubbly cheek. “I missed you too, _snegopad_. So much.” The sun had returned to her life, and she basked in its glow.

The sweet and pure and wholesome he’d left behind returned with the gentle touch of her hand. “You look…” he had no words to describe how fucking hot she was. “This shouldn’t be legal. You make one sexy red riding hood. I get why Nat left this now.” Digging inside his jacket, he pulled out the half mask that looked like a wolf’s silhouette, narrow eyes and short pointed muzzle that would cover his nose, and the pointed ears that arched up over his forehead. “Guess this makes me your wolf.”

She chuckled softly, looking him over. He wore an exceptionally nice suit, classic cut in a style he would have been familiar with as it had a very forties air. Black with a red tie and pocket square over a white shirt, he matched her well. Taking the mask from his fingers, she slipped it over his eyes and reached to tie the ribbon at the back of his head. “Is there ever a story where Red ends up with the wolf?”

“Don’t know,” he murmured, eyes closing as her hands drifted over his face adjusting the mask. “Perhaps tonight we’ll find out.”

Dropping her hands back to his shoulders, Franki couldn’t help but smile a seductive little grin. “ _Tam moy volk.”_ Was a wolf meant to look so dapper? His eyes opened on glacier blue that seemed to look right into her soul.

_There’s my wolf…_ Her words made him grin. Leaning down again, he placed his mouth against her ear and whispered, “ _YA zhelayu, chtoby poglotit' vas.”_

_I wish to devour you…_ She moaned softly, a sultry groan, for his words lit her on fire, right up until the moment when her stomach growled. “Oh!” Franki gasped, blushing in embarrassment.

He pulled back to smirk down at her and noticed for the first time how much paler she appeared, how her collarbone protruded from her way more than he remembered. He’d thought the narrowness of her waist was just the corset she was tied into but now… “You hungry, baby?”

“Starving.” She was suddenly ravenous. “Tony hired Marco as his caterer tonight,” Franki said as Bucky led her away towards the buffet.

* * *

Standing on the stairs to the VIP section Nat, Tony and Steve exchanged concerned looks.

“You all saw that right?” Natasha murmured. “I wasn’t just seeing things. They both changed _, physically_ changed, when he touched her, right?”

Steve nodded slowly, “She went from ice cold to warm as soon as she caught sight of him.”

“Dr. Cho will be here in a few hours. Hopefully, she’ll be able to figure out what the hell is going on with them.” It worried Tony. If it were something detrimental to them both, it would destroy both Bucky and Franki. “They looked at each other and everyone else just… ceased to exist in their world.”

“She loves him,” Natasha sighed. “God, Steve…” Shaking her head, the woman dressed as a pirate turned towards the bar. “You didn’t see her after you left.” Both men turned questioning eyes her way, and she bit her lip. Telling almost felt like betraying her _sestra’s_ confidence, but… “I found her on the floor in Bucky’s room after you left. She was a mess. Kept muttering in Russian about the cruel joke fate had played. That she’d finally been allowed out of the dark and into the light only to have it torn away. I don’t think she even knew I was there for the longest time.”

“Jeez! She was there!” The facts finally lined up, and he understood now why Bucky had been so quick to hustle him out of his room before they left. “No wonder he looked like he wanted to kill someone.” Although, that look hadn’t really left his face the whole time they were gone. “He was damn near _feral_ at times during the mission. It was like living with a man who was…” He struggled to find the right analogy.

“Mad with grief?” Natasha supplied.

“Angry with it. Like he was just _pissed_ at the world and everyone in it.” Steve sighed.

“Nah man,” Sam smirked, sauntering up to the group that all looked _way_ too serious for a party. “Poor dude was pissed cause you cockblocked him. That was a man about to get some action, and _you_ interrupted.”

“Dammit, Sam!” Steve groused rolling his eyes. “Mixed company!”

“At ease, soldier. We both know I’ve said worse.” Natasha chuckled. It was always a pleasure to exasperate Captain America.

“And I’ve heard _you_ say worse.” Tony pointed at Steve.

“What? When?” Steve barked, outraged.

“When Thor poured most of that bottle of Asgardian liquor down you and Bucky’s throats!” Sam chortled, laughing when Cap went white. “Only time I’ve ever seen you drunk. _Priceless_!”

Snickering, Nat grinned at Sam before linking her arm through his. “Well, _player_ , I think you and I should dance. Until Helen gets here and figures out what’s what with the lovebirds, I am going to enjoy this shindig, and I suggest you two do, as well.”

Using the head of his gaudy white, bejewelled cane to tip his overly large purple hat, Sam smirked, “Later, fools!” and led Natasha away murmuring, “Might I say, you make a _fine_ looking wench?”

“Not if you want to keep all those pearly white teeth, _pimp daddy_.” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam nodded.

Steve watched them both walk away. Natasha’s costume he understood for it was some kind of sexy pirate, but Sam’s had him confused. The sparkly cane, zebra print pants, long purple coat, big purple hat, open front white shirt with all the gold jewelry just looked plain… _weird_. But Sam seemed to be enjoying himself. Perhaps he’d inquire of Franki later what Falcon was meant to be. She at least wouldn’t tease him about things he still didn’t quite get. She often struggled with random things as well. Like _going dutch_!

“Well, Tony,” Steve turned to the man left with him. “Anyone here I should know about?”

Clapping his hand on Cap’s shoulder, Tony motioned with his drink. “Let’s schmooze, Sir Capscicle.”

* * *

Franki was sitting at one of the pub tables with Wanda, watching Bucky laugh at something Steve had said when the man dressed as Zorro – a persona she was not familiar with – approached her for the third time.

“Look, sweetheart, I think you and I could have a good time. Won’t you give me a chance? They’re playing our song.”

His presence made her skin crawl, and she glared at him, her eyes icy. “If you think third time will be the charm, you are doomed to disappointment.” Glancing at Wanda, she smirked and asked, “What is saying Clint always uses? Ah, yes. You are fishing without bait. The answer is still _no_.” When he reached for her arm, she was quick to spill her drink on him. “Oops.”

“Bitch,” Zorro hissed, stomping away.

Rolling her eyes, she smirked a little grin at Wanda, the Scarlet Witch, looking every inch the traditional _witch_ that evening – though she was less spooky and sexier. Her philosophy had been _hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it_ which had made Franki laugh. “I’m going to grab another drink, you want?”

Wanda shook her head and smiled at Vision when he wandered over. “This one owes me a dance!” she said instead and dragged the male away by the wrist. Vision had not bothered to dress up. His view on things being, he wore a costume every day, so tonight he was going to go as he was.

Scott was around somewhere, Professor Pym’s daughter, on his arm, and they had come as police officer and prisoner, something that was terribly funny to them both but Franki had not been let in on the joke. Rhodey had made it, too, his legs getting stronger every day, and with all the tech he was kitted out in he was dressed as some character from some movie she had yet to see. She couldn’t even remember the name only that it started with E. Ely… Elis… Elysi…? She’d ask him another day. Clint had made it with his wife, dressed as cowboys, and Franki thought they looked adorable together. The only ones missing were Thor and Jane, Darcy, Bruce, Maria and Fury.

Getting up from the table, she declined another offer to dance and escaped the hands that reached for her as she headed for the restricted section, tugging her heavy cloak around her shoulders. Sitting with Wanda usually deterred people from getting too close. Her powers were ones that many people still feared, which, quite honestly was the stupidest thing Franki had ever heard. Wanda was so damn sweet. Franki was more likely to kill someone with the tab from their pop can than Wanda was to harm someone with her powers.

“Hey, kid!”

She smiled at Tony. “Stark.”

“You going to give me that dance you owe me?” He was only a little drunk, more like pleasantly buzzed, and she had a debt to pay off.

Chuckling, she took his offered hand. “You sure you _can_ dance? You seem to be wobbling a bit, Iron Man.”

“Bah!” He flicked his hand wildly. “I’d need to drink _much_ more before I couldn’t dance on my own dance floor.” To prove his point, he spun her out, spun her back, and dipped her, making Franki laugh.

* * *

Across the room, Bucky watched her fondly. “I can’t believe how well she’s doing. She danced with you and now look at her with Tony.”

Steve also grinned, sipping on his beer. “She hugged me, man. Just jumped up and did it. It was nice.”

“Hands off, pal,” Bucky smirked his way. “I saw her first.”

“Well, _technically_ ,” Steve teased.

“Yeah, yeah. Stuff it, punk.” Bucky bumped shoulders with him. Sobering, he murmured, “Sorry, about the last few weeks. I don’t know….” He sighed before shrugging and taking a long pull of his beer.

“S’ok. You do know Tony called in Dr. Cho? Wasn’t just you that was messed up these last weeks.” Steve motioned to Franki with the bottle. “She’s lost weight.”

“I noticed.” And she wasn’t any bigger than a housefly, to begin with. She didn’t have the weight to lose. “She ate like one of us tonight. Plowed through three plates of pasta like she inhaled it.” Bucky chuckled. “I don’t know what’s going on here, Steve, but I don’t like seeing what this did to her.”

“I don’t like seeing what it did to you both,” Steve murmured, placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re not just my best friend, Buck. You’re family. Until we figure this out, I’m here for you. Both of you.”

“Thanks, man.” He grinned and bumped beers with _Sir_ Rogers.

* * *

Tony smirked down at the petite woman in his arms. “You’re man’s having a bromance moment with Cap.”

Chuckling, Franki glanced over her shoulder. It wasn’t like it was an uncommon sight. They gravitated towards each other, always had. “Jealous?” she teased, turning back to Tony. He rolled his eyes and huffed at her, making her giggle harder.

“I’d rather romance an avocado,” he quipped. He planned to say more only his watched beeped at him, and Friday’s voice came through clearly.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss, but the hard drive Franki has been working on has finally been decrypted. I thought she’d like to know.”

“Thanks, Friday,” Franki murmured, stepping back.

“Hey! What about my dance?” Tony pouted.

Laughing she shook her head. “I’ll be back in like, twenty minutes. I’ve been fighting with this thing so long I just want to see what was so damn important. Tell Bucky, won’t you?” Turning on her stacked heel, she weaved her way through the throng of people, avoiding as many as she could, and snuck outside to skirt the party. Her palm print got her in the exterior door, and she darted down the hallway back into the central tower where she caught another elevator and headed for the computer lab.

“Friday? What you got for me?” she called out as she flipped the lights on and strode forwards to see the data.

“There are hundreds of files on here, Franki. Most are things we already knew, but… there’s this.”

Files marked Experimental Program W popped up, and Franki threw them up in the air so she could lay them out. Flicking open the main file, she felt her heart stutter when the first three were labelled China, Weapons Program, and Experimental’s.

“Friday,” she whispered, voice hoarse, “Open all files.” They expanded into life around her and Franki brought her hand to her suddenly pounding heart.

“Oh, my god…” she whispered, reading through what had been the purpose of her program, what Hydra had been trying to accomplish. “Find file marked Weapon F.” It opened to show pictures of her throughout her life, video of her training, doctors talking about her suspected mutation. There was a video of her battling the other one like Bucky, and she gasped for it was as horrible as she remembered. It was all there, her whole life, in glaring black and white.

“Open,” she cleared her throat when it broke, “Open file Subject Seven.”

Tears poured down her face, and her hand went to her mouth to hold back the gut-wrenching sob. “Oh, no…”

She read half the file, all the damning words before it became too much and turned away from the images in horror. “I have to go. I can’t be here. I have to go.” Stumbling forwards, Franki ran from the room and headed for her suite.

“Do you require assistance, Franki? Your heart rate and hormonal levels are fluctuating wildly.”

“No Friday,” she choked out, slamming into her rooms. She practically tore the costume from her body, pins flying from her hair when she yanked the cape from her back. She didn’t feel the hair that ripped free, nor did she see it fall to the ground in delicate chestnut curls. She didn’t notice the blood that dripped down the locks as she twisted them up behind her and stepped into her bodysuit, the one garment that offered her some protection from the intense crawling of her skin and the manic depression that was crowding her mind. She didn’t feel her nails tear as she yanked up the zipper, or notice the bloody handprint she left on the wall when she grabbed her beautiful red coat and ran out the door.

She slammed her hand down on the elevator button and practically leapt inside only to realize she wasn’t alone. “What are you doing here? This elevator is for private use.” The man dressed as Zorro leered at her, and she knew an instant of intense nausea when the doors closed and locked them in together.

“Having a rough night?” He sneered, stepping closer. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a bitch.”

He snatched her by the wrist, and her heart pounded. “You are going to want to let me go, right now,” she warned him quietly. Everything about him felt foul.

“Stupid whore! Too good to dance with anyone that wasn’t a superhero. Well, where’s your hero now? Huh, bitch?” He forced her into the wall and pinned her there with his body before slamming his mouth down and biting her lips.

She went bone chillingly numb when she tasted the copper of her blood in her mouth. Everything slowed to a crawl. The feeling of something foul, evil, washed over her skin and made it recoil. Then, the force inside her was unleashed, and she plowed her fist into his temple. It drove him straight into the wall of buttons, lighting a bunch of them up, and halting the elevator. Its doors slid open again on the tenth floor. The man lay groaning in the doorway, and she crouched beside him. Pressing her know gloved hand to his mouth she watched his eyes go wide. “I am my own hero. Be thankful I am in a forgiving mood. They do not call me _Reaper_ for nothing,” she hissed before striding away.

The door for the stairwell was right in front of her, and she hit it at a full run. She needed out, needed away, needed time to wrap her head around all she’d just read.

* * *

Back at the party, Tony was growing concerned and tapped his watch. “Friday? Is Francessca on her way back yet?”

“Franki is in the process of leaving Stark Tower. She seems upset.”

“What? Why?” he barked, heading for the doors at a run, bypassing the elevators. “Where is she?”

“Tenth floor near the east elevator, heading for the stairs.”

“Tony?” Bucky called out, having followed the man when he’d raced from the room.

“Franki’s running! I don’t know why!” Tony was only thankful she was in the stairwell nearest the party. Slamming through the door on the seventy-fifth floor he leaned over the railing. “Francessca!”

Bucky stared down the deep hole to the face of the woman he loved more than anything nearly seventy floors below. “Franki! Stop!”

Staring up at them, Franki gasped out a sob and jumped the railing. She grabbed the guardrail at the fifth-floor mark to slow her descent and again at the second, before dropping to the ground and racing for the emergency exit. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear her.

There was no hesitation when Bucky thrust himself over the railing. He fell a good thirty floors before snagging the railing with his vibranium arm. It hurt, god it hurt, but he only let go to drop a second time, and a third, before he landed hard, rolled to his feet and raced for the door that was screaming in alarm at being opened. Slamming through, he looked all over for the fleeing red coat… but she was gone.

The door behind him had closed but opened easily when he put his metal hand through it and ripped it from its hinges. “Stark!” he roared from the bottom of the stairwell.

“Get your ass back up here, sunshine, so we can figure this out!” Smacking a hand to his watch, Tony growled out, “Party’s over! Pack it up!” Security would see everyone was escorted out. “Inform the team they’re needed in the control room. Now!” Stalking towards the door as Bucky arrived on his floor, he snarled, “And put someone on the door for the East stairwell. Repairs are going to need to be made!”

“What the hell just happened?” Bucky growled. “Why is she running!?” Why was she running from him?

“I don’t know! Friday!?” Tony snapped.

“It appears the information on the hard drive was rather distressing to her. She left after reading it. Boss, a partygoer, assaulted her in the Avengers private elevator. Should I have security pick him up?”

“Yes!” Tony and Bucky yelled together and stalked into the control room. They’d deal with that later.

“Show me,” Tony commanded and file after file popped into life. Waving his hand, he threw them up so they could spread out and inhaled sharply. “Jesus… it’s her. They’re all about Francessca.”

“What?” Bucky stiffened, reaching out to grab a video file. It just happened to be the one of her fighting the other winter soldier. He sank into a chair and watched silently as the man tried to destroy her. When it was finished, he threw it violently away. “What the fuck is this!?”

Stark plucked out another folder and sank back against the workstation as he read it through. “Barnes…” he murmured. “I know why she ran…”

“Who ran?” Natasha asked, striding in the door, only to freeze in her tracks. “Oh… no… is that…” The rest of the team piled in behind her and spread out, looking at the screens with growing horror.

“Barnes,” Tony said again. Icy blue eyes lifted and he could see the anguish. “They weren’t building more weapons. They weren’t training her to be another soldier like you. They created her… _for you_.” He turned the file and gave it a shove that sent it floating into Bucky’s lap just as Dr. Cho walked through the door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst. Violence. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Eleven

* * *

Franki sank onto the seat of the swing in Central Park and sobbed softly against the chain. Everything she knew was a lie. Everything she felt was only a fabrication by Hydra. Her serum, her body, all of it had been one big genetic experiment to create matches for the Winter Soldier program.

She was a _broodmare_.

The only reason they had trained her this well was so if her partner ever got too aggressive, she could defend herself long enough for help to arrive. She wasn’t a field operative and the _missions_ they had wanted to send her on, the ones she’d always refused, had been breeding missions. She was supposed to entice her soldier into fucking her until she was pregnant, and then she would be put in stasis, a chemically induced coma so she couldn’t abort the child until the offspring was born and they could begin the cycle anew.

It made her _sick_.

They’d played with her pheromones, done something to her to make her sexually attractive to the winter soldiers. That was why they put her in the room that day. Not to kill her, but so he could beat her down long enough to fuck her. Only she’d fought to the bitter end, and they’d been afraid he would actually kill her so they’d pulled her out.

Then she’d healed and made herself very interesting. What if they could unlock her genetic code? Create a bevy of females that healed like she did? Imagine the soldiers they could create. They could put their altered females back in with the men in days rather than weeks.

“Oh god… we were nothing more than animals…” she whimpered, leaning her head against the chain.

But it hadn’t worked the way they wanted it to. The men were all too feral, too dangerous, and eventually killed their partner. Whether on purpose or by accident the reports didn’t say. She’d been the last, and they had screwed with her the most. They’d played with her chemical makeup. Changed it, messed it up, and had turned her into a walking weapon. A weapon aimed… at Bucky.

She didn’t know how they’d done it, but, somehow, they’d made her into the _perfect_ woman for the first Winter Soldier. Her scent was altered to be something he couldn’t resist, and when his skin came in contact with hers, it released a chemical reaction that bound them together. The closer they got, the tighter the bond. If she had slept with him before his leaving… it could have been so much worse.

It had been Hydra’s plan all along to dump her on Bucky’s doorstep. From there it was only a matter of time before nature took its course, and then Hydra would have done _everything_ to get her back.

And Bucky would have come for her, do anything they said to save her because he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself. She was a danger to him, and the farther away she was, the better. They hadn’t completed the bond yet, and if they stayed apart, it would, she hoped, fade. But for now, it fucking _hurt_.

“Hey? You okay? You need help?”

The voice was familiar, as was the flash of light over her face, and Franki looked up to find Officer Jack looking back.

“Franki Romanoff?” he murmured quietly, staring in horror at the woman. She looked absolutely devastated, and he took a step towards her. “Ma’am, are you alright? Do you need me to call the tower?”

“No!” she hollered, jerking upright. “Don’t call the tower. I am fine. I will go.” She got to her feet and nearly fell.

“Miss, if you’ll pardon my say so, you ain’t alright,” Jack murmured, moving to take her arm.

Jerking it away, Franki shook her head, tears streaming from her eyes. “Please… don’t… nothing good comes of people touching me.”

“Ma’am… Franki,” he said softly, watching her fold in on herself, “You got a place to stay tonight?” 

“I’ll be fine.” She smiled for him, but it was a weak one.

“Course you will. You’re coming home with me. My wife will be pleased as punch to have you.” He motioned for her to join him. “Come on, now.” He didn’t know what had happened between her and her team, or her and Sergeant Barnes, but he wasn’t about to leave a clearly upset woman alone in Central Park; didn’t matter who she was.

She looked at him standing there, all of thirty-five if he was a day, but he had that look that she’d come to think of as the _dad_ look. Steve wore it sometimes, or Tony, when they were trying to be patient, but they expected obedience. “I do not wish to be trouble.”

Her accent grew thick and made him smile. “No trouble. Promise.” Slowly, she walked out of the park, and carefully stepped over the fence with him. She moved like she was broken, but he couldn’t tell if it was physical or emotional damage. “We have to go through the park and a bit down the other side. You going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Super… _soldier_ ….” She made to remind him but faltered when she remembered that wasn’t what she’d been made for.

“Hey, you want to talk about it? I’m a pretty fair listener,” he urged softly, heading home with what felt like a shadow in a red coat dogging him.

“No, thank you,” she murmured, head down, keeping pace.

“You change your mind…” he offered, but when she only looked away, he began to talk about anything and everything. Little antidotes of things he’d heard or seen in the park. Stories about people he’d met or arrested. Comments on things that had changed or stayed the same for years, until he came to the brick building that housed the apartment he shared with his wife and son. “It ain’t much, but its home.”

“It is quaint,” Franki murmured.

“Well, it’s no Stark Tower, that’s for sure,” Jack chuckled.

“I lived in an eight by ten cell for roughly thirteen years,” Franki mumbled, looking at the glowing windows, and wondering about the lives and the stories behind them. “This is nice.”

It wasn’t the information that caused his heart to plummet, no, it seemed all those who called themselves Avengers were destined for tragic backstories, but the way she said it. It was so off-the-cuff like it was normal in her world to have been kept like an animal for what must have been a good chunk of her life. “Come on,” he encouraged, holding open the door.

She stepped past him, taking in all points of entry, before following Jack up the stairs to his third-floor apartment.  She wasn’t really sure why she’d agreed to follow him home like a lost puppy, but, maybe it was for just that very reason. A lost puppy was precisely what she felt like.

Opening the locks on his door, Jack stepped inside to a softly glowing stove light. “Looks like Tam’s already gone to bed, but I can make us some tea if you want?” He offered quietly, shrugging out of his jacket and placing it on the hook behind the door. He looked at her expectantly, but she only huddled deeper into the red wool. “Franki, you don’t mind if I call you Franki, right?” She shook her head, and he smiled. “You’re safe here. Why not take your coat off and stay awhile?”

He held out his hand, and she clutched the collars of her coat tightly before slowly shrugging it free and handing it over. It went on top of his, and when he motioned her to take a seat on the pea green sofa, she did so without fuss.

While he was busy in the kitchen, Franki had a quick look around, again noting the entrances and exits, but her eyes were drawn to all the brick-a-brack that sat on every flat surface. There were china dogs and painted ladies, and cats, and birds. There were crystal candy dishes and glass animals. On the back of the sofa was a colourful lap quilt that looked old and well loved. Pictures hung on the walls, family gatherings and outings.

A wedding photo had her looking swiftly away. That hollow feeling that had bloomed in her chest when Bucky was gone, returned with a vengeance and made it hard to breathe.

In the kitchen, Jack kept his hands busy making tea but took the time to send a quick text to his partner to get in touch with Stark Tower and let them know Franki Romanoff was safe and in his home. If she looked like _this_ , he could only imagine what the others looked like.

When the kettle boiled, he filled the cups and returned to find her staring at one of his wife’s weird statues with a funny look on her face. “Tam calls it _collecting_. I call it hoarding.” He chuckled softly, setting the cup down in front of Franki and sitting across from her.

“Are they always this…”

“Go ahead, you can say it. They’re hideous.” He chuckled again and sipped at his tea.

Picking up her cup, Franki quelled the quick twitch of her lips. “Do you always invite strangers home with you in the dead of night, Jack?”

“Only strangers I know,” he quipped back, head turning when he heard the squeak of floorboards. “Why don’t you come out and say hello, Jimmy.”

Franki’s eyes darted to the partially opened door where the fuzzy blond head poked through. The boy was no more than five and was absolutely precious in his soft grey jammies with the red stars all over them. It slammed through her that these were his _Bucky Barnes_ pajamas, and she had to quickly swipe a tear away. “Hello, Jimmy,” she murmured, her voice raspy.

Shooting her a glance, Jack wondered if she had issues with kids, but the look on her face was the same one she’d worn for Barnes. Evidently, his son had captured another feminine heart, this one an Avenger. “Jimmy, this nice lady is Franki Romanoff. She works with Sergeant Barnes.”

His sweet, cherub face lit up when he looked at her and matched the charming voice. “You _know_ Bucky Barnes!?”

His eyes were huge, and she nodded slowly. When Jack had turned his son to face her, she felt her heart clench in her chest for the little boy’s left sleeve hung empty. But his eyes were big and bright, so full of excitement that she couldn’t help but smile. How could someone so small be so adorable already? “I do, yes.”

“My daddy brought me a picture! I like Bucky! He’s my favourite Avenger.”

His enthusiasm made her smile, even though her heart shattered. “Me too,” she whispered. Was it any wonder Bucky was his favourite?

“Are you an Avenger, too?” he asked, eyes big and round.

“I am…” or, at least, she had been. “I’m the one they call _Reaper_ ,” she murmured and pulled her hood up over her head. The display came to life, and she found multiple messages from all the team, begging her to come back. They could figure this out, work it out together, and when the little red flashing notice read _tracking_ she murmured, “Friday… I can’t yet. Please. I need time.” The notice turned off, and she sighed, “Thank you.” Pushing back her hood, she looked tiredly at Jack. “Can I use your phone?”

“Sure!” he leapt up, his son in his arms, and found her the cordless one. “Here you go!” He took Jimmy and headed into the kitchen to give her a semblance of privacy.

Franki dialled a number she knew by heart and was unsurprised when it rang only once. _“Sestra.”_

_“Sestranka!_ Where are you? Are you alright? I’m coming to get you.” Natasha was on her feet and turned for the door when the phone was wrenched from her hand.

“Franki? Tell me where you are!” Bucky demanded.

“Bucky…” a sob broke free.

It made his heart ache. _“Moya zvezdochka,_ come home. We can work this out together.”

“Did you read it?” she whispered.

“ _Da._ ”

“Then you know why I can’t. I’m a danger to you. You can’t be with me.” A second sob broke from her, and she pressed her hand to her mouth.

“That’s not true! Come home, Francessca!”

“Nothing you feel for me is real. It’s all lies! I won’t be your weakness, Bucky. I won’t!” She hung up the phone and collapsed over her knees, sobbing into her arms. It felt like she'd just torn out her own soul.

It took her a few moments to notice the slight weight on her shoulder that was stroking down her arm, almost as if it was petting her. When she turned to look, little Jimmy patted her arm.

“It’s okay to be sad,” he said, tears dripping from his eyes. “I’m sad cause my Pop-Pop went to heaven. Sometimes Nonna cries when she thinks I’m napping. She calls tears liquid memories.” Pushing at her arms, he crawled up on her knee. “Are you and Bucky fighting? My momma and daddy do, sometimes, but then they say sorry and kiss each other, and everything is all better.”

His big hazel eyes looked up at her with such trust, such sincerity, she started to cry all over again and hugged the little boy tightly. Something about him soothed a part of the hollowness inside her; his innocence like nothing she’d ever known. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured into his crown of golden fuzz. “I’m bad for him. He won’t be safe with me around.”

“Sergeant Barnes can handle anything! He’s the Winter Soldier!” Jimmy stated, thinking it strange that she would worry for someone so strong.

Tucking her face down in his hair, she breathed in a scent that she would never forget. How was it possible for a trust to have a smell? Or hope? Or love? Yet, this boy in her arms smelled like all of the above. “You’re a good boy, Jimmy. Thank you.” He snuggled closer, and she lightly stroked his back.

They stayed that way for a while, his breathing slow and steady, and his presence in her arms a soothing one. Jack drank his tea in companionable silence, not asking though she knew he wanted to until a knock came at the door.

Looking sharply to Jack, Franki murmured, “You expecting anyone?” This was not the time of night one got random callers at the door.

“No.” He shook his head.

Getting up slowly, careful of the little boy who’d fallen back to sleep, she handed him to his father. “Go into the room with your wife. Lock the door and don’t come out until I tell you it is safe.”  She tucked the phone down with him. The knock came a second time, and she mouthed the words " _who is it_?"

“Who is it?” Jack called out.

“Jack? It’s Ronny. Let me in.”

“Ronny?” That was weird. “Just give me a sec to put Jimmy down. I’ll be right there.” He looked into the suddenly cold silver eyes of Franki and shivered as he confessed, “I told him to call the tower, tell them you were here and safe. That was it.”

“How long has he been your partner?”

“Couple of years.” But… when Shield had fallen after Hydra had been outed, they’d all learned the evil organization was good at blending in. “There’s a handgun on top of the fridge in a lockbox. Key is hanging there.” He nodded his head toward the wall. “Franki…”

“No, Jack. Keep your family safe. You redial that last number. That’s Natasha. Tell her code red, and she will find me with the snow cats.” She pushed him towards the door on the other side of the kitchen and reached for the lock box. A quick tug snapped the lock, and he stared at her, amazed before she gave a sharp jerk of her head. “Go!” she hissed, turning to pull knives out of the block beside the stove. The door shut behind him, and she heard the lock snick before something heavy landed in front of the door.

Flicking her hood up, she looked towards the hallway. There were five men out there. Five Hydra agents, she just knew it, and she stepped closer to Jack’s bedroom door. “Jack, make that call. Do it now.” She could just hear him talking as she turned out the stove light and skated into shadows, making her way to the door. Removing the chain as silently as she could, Franki grabbed the lock and whispered to Friday, “I need to sound like Jack.”

“Go ahead.” The AI said.

“Come on in, Ronny. Just keep it down. Franki fell asleep on the couch.” She turned the deadbolt and leapt up to sit nimbly on top of the curio cabinet behind the door. It banged inwards, the men swarming with weapons drawn, but she waited until the last one was through before slamming it shut and leaping into the darkness.

Two went down with knives through their necks, the third took one in the thigh that she wrenched out and swiped across his throat. He fell through Jack’s coffee table, taking out a host of Tam’s collectables.

The fourth managed to fire his weapon. The bullet slammed into her side causing heat to erupted along her skin. It fractured a rib, tore through her liver, and exited out the back according to Friday and Franki knew it was bad. The amount of blood that poured down her side was a terrible thing.

She shot him point blank in the chest. The last one was Ronny, and she sank back into the shadows to buy some time, pressing her hand against the front of her wound. “Hydra send you?”

“Like you don’t already know,” he scoffed, turning a circle to find her.

“They going to try and use me against Bucky?”

“Well, look at you go, sweetheart. Got it in one,” he sneered, swinging his gun towards a shadow he thought had moved.

“I refused to be Hydra’s pawn for thirteen years. I’m sure as hell not going to be their pawn _now_ , and I will _never_ let them use me against Bucky!” Stepping up behind him out of the dark, she grabbed his head and gave it a quick, concise twist to the right. The snap was most gratifying.

As his body fell, she dashed to the windows that overlooked the street. More men had arrived, most in tactical gear, all packing weapons. “Jack!” she called out. “You’re going to need to move your family. I’m sorry about the mess. I’ll make sure it’s handled. Your partner was a Hydra agent.”

A female voice called back, “I knew there was something wrong with him!”

“Tam, not now.” Jack sighed. Shoving the dresser from the door, he walked into the kitchen. “Well… damn…” he whistled. There were five dead people in his living room.

“You may not want your wife to see…” but the woman in the pink nightgown was already striding into the room, Jimmy’s face tucked firmly against her chest with her hand over his eyes. The little boy didn't even whimper, and she was impressed with how tough he was.

“Honey, I’m retired Army Ranger. You go, girl!”  Tam grinned.

A smile worked its way onto Franki’s face. “You three better get out of here. You got a neighbour you can go to?”

“Right in here, sweetie! I heard all that commotion. You three come with me.”

Came a voice from the hall and Franki turned to see a woman, who had to be seventy if she was a day, open the door and wave them over. “Good, go. I’ll get them to follow me. They’re not after you. Did you speak with Nat?” she asked, stepping into the hallway and grabbing for the wall when her vision dimmed.

“Jesus, Franki! You’re bleeding!” Jack reached for her, and she stepped away. “You need help!”

“Friday?” The suit sealed over. “I’ll be fine. Get going.”

He shook his head, but she shoved him in the door of his neighbour's apartment. “I will not be responsible for you ending up dead! Stay here and stay quiet!” She’d barely gotten the door shut when the ones at either end of the hall slammed open.

Diving back through the doorway, she jumped over the dead men and went straight through the glass window onto the fire escape, making as much racket as possible. More agents were climbing up, and she shot the front-runner through the eye causing him to fall back and domino the rest. Darting up the stairs, she muttered, “Friday, I need options!” Calculating flashed a few times before a route was mapped out that led to the zoo and the snow leopard pen. “ _Da_!”

Climbing quickly, she made for the roof.

* * *

Bucky placed Natasha’s phone down with extreme care. It was that or throw the thing as hard as he could. “She won’t come back. Says it was all lies. Nothing we feel is real.”

“Horseshit!” Helen snapped from her place before the computer.

“Doctor?” Tony asked, intrigued.

“She clearly didn’t read these through or didn’t understand what she was reading. Her skin and your skin react to each other, release pretty potent pheromones, and are creating a chemical bond.”

“What?” Bucky gasped.

“She’s your chemically perfect match. It was what they were trying to create with the other pairs, but here’s the kicker. This program of Hydra's? It didn’t work. Not with _any_ of the other subjects and they were abandoning it. She was slated to be terminated the same day you rescued her. Originally they had planned to mess with her systems and drop her on you, but when the reconditioning continued to fail, and then none of the other pairs worked, they gave up.”

Helen turned to look at them all staring at her with different levels of stunned confusion. “Don’t you get it? Hydra has no idea that Franki is Bucky’s match! They haven’t got any clue that she _literally_ holds the keys to his sanity! Look at this!” She drew up medical scans of Bucky that Friday had been compiling. “Testosterone, elevated. Cortisol, elevated. His whole damn endocrine system is going into overdrive! If you don’t get her back here, he’s liable to go into a rage, become highly aggressive, and will continue to be so without thought or desire for anything else.”

“What are you saying, doc?” Steve finally asked, needing the clarification, but he was pretty sure he knew what she meant. She’d basically describe the last three weeks.

“I’m saying…” Helen sighed, passing a hand over her face. “It’s too late. Whatever Franki thought she was saving you both from by running… it’s too late. She’ll do more damage than good at this point. But she’s wrong when she says what you feel are lies. Tony told me you two got together around the same time I did my last batch of tests?” Bucky nodded, and she smiled. “Then what you _feel_ is most certainly real. Did you have feelings for her before touching her?”

“Well, yeah…” Bucky murmured.

“And did you _ever_ come in contact with her skin before then?”

“No.” Bucky knew it for certain. Francessca didn’t like to be touched, and he’d respected that until things between them had changed.

“How you feel about someone has little to do with pheromones. Sure they can make that person _more_ attractive to you, but they can’t _make_ you fall in love. Shit, if you were going to fall victim to some Hydra shenanigans, some chemical pairing they planned to make you compliant by taking away your woman, you would have succumbed to your hormonal urges within a week of meeting her. Hell, we are all susceptible to pheromones. You’re with her because you _want_ to be, right?” Again the man who was the Winter Soldier nodded. “Then for god's sake go get her!” She jerked up another screen, showing the same readings for Franki. “Just like with you and all your aggression, she needs you to balance her too, but she goes the other way. For her…” Helen pulled up the video from the pool, the one Tony had sent her and showed it to Bucky. “It becomes extreme grief.”

Bucky's heart plummeted to his feet as he watched her cry her eyes out. “Steve…”

“We’ll find her, Buck,” Cap said. “Trace on that call?”

“Narrowed to a five-block area. She’s on the other side of the park,” Sam muttered.

“Her suit just came online again!” Tony called out, working fast to make certain he could pinpointing her location before she shut the tracking down again. “Got it!” He smacked his hand down on the console and had his latest Iron Man suit crawl up his arm.

Nat’s phone rang in her hand, and she quickly answered it. “Franki?”

“Natasha Romanoff? This is Officer Jack O’Shea, I met Franki and Sergeant Barnes in Central Park about four weeks ago. She’s been at my place tonight. I was told to call and tell you code red, you’ll find her with the snow cats.”

“Dammitl! How the hell did they find her before we did? Thank you, Officer. We're on our way.” She ended the call. “Everyone gear up! Hydra’s after Franki!”

“I thought you said they didn’t know!?” Bucky snarled at Dr. Cho.

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean they won’t still try and use her against you. Your relationship isn’t exactly a secret!” Helen shouted back.

“Neither of you are helping matters!” Tony stepped between them. “Barnes! She needs us! Hurry up! I’m going on ahead.” Before anyone could say otherwise, he flew out the window that opened in the ceiling.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst. Violence. Russian that may or may not be correct.

##  Chapter Twelve

* * *

Franki reached the roof in record time. Racing along the narrow edge towards the next building. Already she could hear the agents shouting she was on the move. Glancing down toward the road, she could see they were following her. Good. If anything happened to Jack or his family, she’d never forgive herself. Focusing ahead, she took three long strides and leapt across the alley. Landing lightly, she continued on across the roof of the next building, repeating the process a few times as the men following scrambled to keep up.  
  
She would work her way back toward the park, get Hydra to follow her there, and deal with these agents on her terms. A shot rang out. Heat washed swiftly across her arm. Her display lit up, and she put on a burst of speed. “Not good, Friday,” she murmured. The bullet had only grazed her arm, but the one that plowed through her side had caused a multitude of injuries. The worst of which was the internal bleeding.

“Franki?”   
  
“Tony?” she panted, skirting along another roof and leaping another alleyway. Dropping down onto a building which was only three stories tall, Franki dropped from it to the road.  
  
“Yeah, precious. I’m coming to you. What’s the plan?”  
  
Landing hard, she rolled through an intersection, narrowly avoiding being run over. Coming up running, there was the tell-tale sound of boots pounding pavement behind her. “Heading for the park. Northern Woods,” she wheezed, darting through traffic and weaving through parked cars. She had another three blocks to go before she made it to the cover of the trees.  
  
“Francessca?” She sounded terrible, and Tony kicked up his speed.  
  
“Took… a bullet,” she said, ducking when another shot rang out. It slammed into the brick wall near her head and set her swearing. There were too many people on the street, even at this time of night, because it was so close to Halloween. Too many innocent bystanders now screaming as shots were fired. The roar of a speeding engine barreling down on her had Franki gritting her teeth.   
  
Leaping up on a parked car, she raced across the vehicles. Making herself a target, she set off alarms as she lashed out at a lamppost. The metal bent, toppling down across two parked cars before falling in between them and blocking the path of the SUV speeding the wrong way down the one way street.  
Jumping back to the road, Franki sprinted for the trees she could see in the distance. A red streak went past her the opposite direction. She gave a tired smile. “About time you showed up,” she said, racing into the traffic and sliding over the hood of a cab which nearly rammed into her. “Give ‘em hell, kotenok.”  
  
“Get your ass undercover, Francessca!” Tony barked. Holding up his hand, small rockets lifted from the arm of his suit. Each one honed in on a target and exploded with a loud hiss and pop, releasing gas which had all the Hydra agents falling unconscious to the ground. Yes, it was much more satisfying to blow stuff up, but he was in no mood to foot the bill the city would try and throw at him if he did. “There are more of them in the park, precious! Watch yourself.”  
  
“Thanks, Tony.”   
  
“Friday, have NYPD dispatched to my location and inform them of what’s happening in Central Park. Get the area cordoned off.” Tony's head snapped up as she muttered, yes boss, attention caught by the man running towards him. “Stop!”  
  
Holding up his badge, Jack called out, “I’m Jack O’Shea! I’ve got this location. Go, help Franki!” He couldn’t sit back and let her go on her own, no matter what she’d said. His wife had wholeheartedly agreed and was waiting in May’s apartment for police to arrive along with his Captain. It was going to be a fucking circus when it all went down. His partner was dead in his home, along with four other Hydra agents, but he couldn’t just sit back and watch as Franki ran for her life.  
  
“Thank you, Officer. NYPD has been notified of the situation.” Tony nodded and flew off after Franki.  
  
Franki stumbled into the trees, finding the deepest shadow she could. She collapsed into it at the base of a broad tree trunk. Leaning against the rough bark, she swore silently to herself as she read the display which spoke about her vitals. She was losing too much blood, was still bleeding internally. She needed a minute – or ten – to let her body heal up.   
  
A snapping twig had her head jerking up. It was dark in the woods, but the red beams of laser sites weren’t exactly hard to miss. The gun in her hand, a Beretta 92, had been fully loaded, two rounds fired, which left her with seven shots. She had used the knives at Jack’s and left them behind, and hadn’t brought any with her when she’d fled the Tower. It was a stupid, rookie mistake. “Friday? Little help?” From the look of her readout, there was a hell of a lot more than seven men after her.   
  
“I’m recalibration the bots. I can give you two knives before the integrity of the suit is compromised.”  
  
Seven bullets and two daggers… against a hoard of Hydra agents? Well, she wasn’t called Reaper for nothing and… her team was out here, too. “Time to go ghost, Friday,” Franki murmured as she swiftly made her way up the trunk of the tree. She’d just have to plunder a few bodies as she went.   
  
They would expect her to run for the Tower, a calculated risk. Too bad they would be wrong.   
  
Franki was going hunting.

* * *

Bucky raced for his room only seconds after Stark took off, tearing the clothes from his body with brutal efficiency. His gear was still waiting where he’d let it all fall. Many of his weapons still sheathed or holstered. He jerked the gear back on.  
  
The long sleeved black shirt he pulled over his head would hide his arm nicely, and he slammed the vest to his chest viciously. Hydra was after Franki. She was out there, running for her life, alone. He’d never wanted so badly to both hug and spank someone at the same time.  
  
“What the hell were you thinking?” She’d run from him. An action she’d once said was pointless. She'd promised to stop ripping out his heart. Yet she’d done it again. Leaving what felt like a gaping, bloody hole in his chest.   
Checking everything over with practiced ease, he went to grab new ammo and picked up the Barrett from the top of his go bag. The long-range rifle was like his good luck charm. Tonight, he needed all the luck he could get.  
  
“Bucky.”  
  
Cap was ready, his shield tucked on his back and guns strapped to his thighs. Bucky nodded. “Ready.” Turning to face Steve, he picked up one item from the bag he never used anymore; wasn’t even really sure why he’d kept it.  
  
“You don’t need that,” Steve murmured, pointing to the half mask which had for so long proclaimed Bucky the Winter Soldier and an agent for Hydra.  
  
“They hunt what is mine. They bring this on themselves.” They had unleashed the devil in him they had caused to be born. He wanted them to see what they had wrought. They needed to know hell had more mercy than he did this night. Rising to his feet, Bucky pressed the mask to his face. “Are you with me, Steve?”  
  
Hard, cold, winter soldier eyes looked through him. Steve nearly shuddered. It was a look he had hoped never to see on his friend’s face ever again. The question was one he and Bucky had exchanged many times. In an alley back in the day, on a crashing Shield Helicarrier, but the one which stuck out starkly in his memory was standing overlooking a long ravine while waiting on a train. A mission which had ended… badly. Steve was determined not to repeat history. “To the end of the line, Buck. Let’s go get your girl.”  
  
Shouldering his rifle, Bucky jogged out the door, following Captain America to the roof. In his head, all he could hear was Franki’s voice… _You are the soft snow, falling in fat flakes over dense forests when you hunt the prey of an assassin, silent and so still. And you are the blizzard, swift and vicious when you rage through a building in search of your comrades…  
_  
Tightening his griping on the strap for his rifle, he felt a wave of cold rage rush through him.   
  
_Bring on the blizzard_.   
  
Natasha, Sam, Clint, Scott, Vision and Wanda looked up when they boarded the quinjet. Hope van Dyne had stayed behind to help monitor things from the tower, but the only one to smile was Natasha. “You bringing the blizzard, Barnes?”  
“Da,” he rumbled. It did not surprise him she understood.  
  
“Good,” she smirked as Clint got them airborne. “Franki’s heading for the snow leopard pen at the zoo. It was our prearranged meeting place if something went sideways. Stark did a sweep as he headed over the park and there’s a shit ton of hostiles coming from all directions. They’ve called in the cavalry for her.”  
  
“Stark’s knocked out the bunch that were chasing her, letting Franki get into the Northern woods, but she’s gone stealth-mode with her suit. We’ve lost tracking, and without a com, the only one who’s got contact with her is Tony through Friday, so we’ll be dropping teams of two off as we go over. We have to take out as many of these agents as possible between her and the zoo in case she slips by us. It will be our rendezvous point,” Steve said as the others stood ready. “Nat’s with Clint, Wanda’s with Vision, Sam’s with Scott. I’m with Bucky. Let’s get this done.”  
  
Natasha’s hand went to her ear, and she flinched. “She’s been shot. Don’t know how badly, but Tony said her breathing was laboured.”  
  
They all looked his way. Bucky only turned to face the door and put in his com. “You drop us north of the lake.” They were going to find her and bring her home. Anyone who got in his way was going to regret it.  
  
The doors opened on the back of the quinjet, and Wanda stepped up beside Bucky. “We will find her. Hydra cannot have our family.” He only nodded, eyes cold and hard, and she reached out to him. Her power glowed red around her eyes. _“Do not forget who you are now, my friend. You are not the monster they made you. Franki will need the man you have become when she is again home with us.”  
_  
Bucky glanced at Wanda. _“I won’t let her go. I don’t care if it is some Hydra shit they put in us. I won’t let her go.”  
_  
Nodding slowly, Wanda smiled. “Good hunting, Sarge.”  
  
“Wanda and I will clear the area around the zoo. We will be better equipped to deal with the animals, as well as keep civilians from wandering into the area.” Taking her hand, Vision pulled her against his body and flew out the door.  
  
“We’ll clear the area between the lake and the zoo. Give you guys a nice straight path.” Sam bumped Cap’s shoulder and nodded to Bucky. “You’ll find her, man.”  
  
“Yeah, Bucky. I’ve got a few of my fliers out looking, too.” Scott had set the ants to the task. They were nothing if not determined. Shrinking, he jumped up to Falcon’s hand and ran up to hold onto his shoulder. “Let’s do this!” he hollered as Sam walked off the back of the quinjet.   
  
“We’ll run the circuit,” Natasha called back. “Clean up the perimeter and make sure no one is coming up behind you. Tony’s going to do what he can to keep tabs on Franki.”  
  
“You tell him to tell her to come straight for the north meadow. The path we walked between the ball diamonds. Tell her,” Bucky's voice grew rough, “tell her I brought the Barrett.” Steve’s hand came down on his shoulder, and he gripped the doorway tightly. “ _Vorobey_ , do not miss.”  
  
“Have I ever?” Clint huffed, ignoring the sparrow comment. “Same goes for you, _snowflake_.”  
  
“Hm,” Bucky growled and walked off the back of the jet when it slowed to a hover on the north side of the lake. Shots rang out, and he ducked, throwing his left arm up. Bullets tore through his shirt, bouncing off the vibranium and he was quick to fire back.   
  
“Dived and conquer?” Steve called out, landing beside him, shield raised to avoid getting shot.  
  
“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “Rather not blow up the park if we can avoid it.” Swinging behind a tree, he leaned around it and shot three agents as Steve took off the other direction.   
  
They worked their way around the tennis courts, Steve skirting left, Bucky taking the right, clearing out what agents they came across on their way towards the rec center and the ball diamonds.

* * *

“Hey, precious?”   
  
“Tony?” Franki whispered. She was laid out on a tree branch above three Hydra agents, waiting for them to get in the perfect position. She’d managed to take out a few others already, collecting a second-hand gun and two grenades, but was loathe to use them, not wanting to make herself more of a target.  
  
“Got a message for you, doll. Your man’s waiting for you in the North Meadow. You’re to head for the path between the ball diamonds. He brought his good luck charm.”  
  
Tony’s voice was a touch smug, but it was the message which made her heart both leap and plummet. Bucky… He’d come hunting, and he’d brought the Barrett. A tear dripped from her eye to splash onto the bark. Pressing her fingers to her mouth, she stifled the cry in her throat. Even with everything she knew of her… condition her heart still yearned to be with him. Her head, however, knew it was simply not possible. Yet, she wasn’t getting out of this without her team’s help. It just meant she’d have to cut ties with Bucky face to face.   
  
So much harder.   
  
The thought and the heartache it brought with it had her nearly missing her opportunity. Dropping silently to the ground behind the third man, Franki used her bot created knife, a weapon which was sharper and harder than any she’d ever seen before. Thrusting it quickly between his first and second vertebrae, she gave a little twist. He didn’t make a sound as she lowered him to the ground. Retrieving her blade, Franki skulked up behind contestant number two. Becoming a living shadow, she waited patiently at his back for his partner to get a little further ahead.  
  
“Hey, George?”   
  
The man’s unexpected voice nearly made her jolt, but she quelled the reaction and waited. Somebody’s a rookie. Who the hell talked when they were hunting?  
  
“What, Matt?” The second man whispered.  
  
“You know they call her the Reaper right.”  
  
“Yeah. So what?”  
  
“Well, aren’t reapers, like, invisible and shit? I’ve heard she’s cleaned out entire floors before and no one seen her comin’.”  
  
“What’s your fucking point, man? She’s a chick! She ain’t that good.”   
  
The second man scoffed at her and Franki decided he was going to go down with a bit more theatrics.  
  
“What you think, Evans?” Matt said low to the man who had been strangely quiet. “Evans?”  
  
Her target slowed to a halt, and she ducked around him as he turned.  
  
“Evans? That ain’t funny, man,” Matt hissed angrily, trying to keep his voice down.  
  
Before George could turn around, she plunged her knife into Matt’s jugular and disappeared into the shadows of a large elm tree. His body hit the ground with a solid thump.   
  
George swung around, gun raised. Panning the barrel back and forth, he looked for an assailant. Both Matt and Evans had been taken out. He hadn’t even noticed. “Reaper, huh? You going to come out and play with the big boys?”  
  
She very nearly snorted as she climbed the trunk of the Elm. Walking the limb on silent feet, Franki stood above him and cast her gaze out over the woods. More warm bodies were headed her way, denoted in red, while in the far distance two blue ones waited. _Snegopad_. He would bring the blizzard, he would come for her, but for now, he waited. Still, there was a heck of a lot of red between her and him.  
  
Turning her eyes back down, she cocked her head at the man below her. When he lowered his weapon, she stepped from the branch. Landing in front of him, she ripped the rifle from his hands. “I see only little boys,” she spat right before punching him in the face.  
  
George stumbled back, hand going to his nose, and swore viciously. “You bitch! You broke my nose!” Looking up, he blinked away the pain and spun a complete circle. Not only was she gone but she’d taken his rifle.   
  
Standing at his back, Franki whispered near his ear, “So, I am only a chick? I will be no trouble, da?” He spun, and she went with him. “You think you can kill me?” She stopped, and he spun around, eyes filled with terror when she simply appeared before him. “Think again.”   
  
Sweeping his legs out from under him, she followed George down. Plunging the knife into his chest, she watched the life drain from his eyes.   
  
Heat washed suddenly through her abdomen. Franki choked on her next breath. She coughed and wetness sprayed in an arc. It had her hand coming up to pass through her display and press against her lips. Her fingers came away bloody. She stared at them in confusion. “What… Friday?” A large red display was reading Warning! Trauma, possibility of death and had her looking down to see the knife embedded between her ribs. “Oh…”  
  
“Franki, whatever you do, do not pull the blade out,” Friday cautioned.  
  
“But I can’t heal…” She couldn’t heal with the knife in.  
  
“If you pull out that blade, you will bleed out in seconds. Leave it be, Franki!” Friday commanded. “Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers are just beyond the Loch. Go. Now, girly!”  
  
The Irish in her voice was heavy with urgency. Franki stumbled to her feet. Holding her hand to the knife to keep it from shifting more than it already was, she started carefully forwards. There were agents all around her, and she did her best to become a shadow, the tech in the suit suddenly invaluable.   
She owed Tony so many dances for this.   
  
When she found a clear spot a few minutes into her journey, she mumbled out a message, “Tony…”  
  
“How you doing, Franki?” He was working around the North Wood but was afraid to get too close in case he accidentally shot her unable to see her.   
  
“Tell Bucky… on my way… need… help…” she stumbled into a sapling of some kind. The whole thing shook violently. “Not going… to make… zoo….”  
  
“Francessca!” Tony barked, but when she didn’t answer, he growled out, “Friday, you need to get through her stealth-mode!”  
  
“I can’t boss. You designed it to be undetectable. If I can’t find it, how am I to hack it?”  
  
“Backtrace her!” he snapped. “I don’t care what else we get, just get me a goddamn physical readout on Francessca.” It took the AI far longer than he would have liked, but when it finally popped up, he nearly fell out of the air. “Son of a…” 

Flying up above the woods, he contacted the team. “Franki’s not going to make the zoo. Everyone get your ass to the north meadow!”  
  
“Stark?” Steve said, kicking his shield into two agents.   
  
“She took a knife. It’s bad.” There was nothing but static over the comms for a moment before everyone acknowledged the change in plans. “Friday, get me Helen.” Noticing three cooling bodies, he dropped to the earth. Maybe he could track her from the ground.  
  
“Tony, its Hope. Helen’s prepping for surgery. You get her here, we’ll be ready.”

* * *

Five shots rang out, and five bodies fell between Bucky and the far woods. Shouldering the Barrett he’d so carefully placed, he got to his feet. “Steve...”  
  
“Go. I’ve got this.” He’d hold there until the others arrived.   
  
Stepping out of the trees, Bucky gave no thought to his own safety when he raced down the walking path towards the woods. “Hold on, baby. I'm coming for ya.”

* * *

Franki knew instantly she’d made a mistake. Falling against the tree had a half-dozen red dots turned her way and start converging. Swearing silently, she slunk into the underbrush. She couldn’t run. Couldn’t fight. Was growing weaker and more tired all the time.   
  
“Franki, you can’t go to sleep.”  
  
“Friday…” she whispered, “Tell Bucky… I’m sorry I ran away… tell him… _on byl moim solntsem. YA lyubila yego vsem, chem ya yavlyayus'.”_  
  
“Franki, you have to stay awake. Franki? Franki!”

* * *

Bucky raced over the 102 street crossing, plowing into the southern edge of the forest where he slowed to listen. “Natasha?”  
  
“Yeah, Bucky?”   
  
“Can you give me a reading on the location of the rest of Hydra’s men? Anything look off?”  
  
“Yeah, actually. There’s of a group of them converging on an area two hundred fifty feet ahead of you.”  
  
He was already running silently down the path, slowing after only a few seconds. He crouched to let his hearing find what it would. There was six of them, all searching through the area. They called quietly back and forth between each other. Something had disturbed a tree, making enough noise to need investigating. He was up and moving in a flash.  
  
The first two went down with little resistance, a knife going through the temple tended to do that. The third turned in time to see his own death as Bucky snapped his vibranium fist into the man’s nose. The fourth put up a pitiful fight, and he simply switched his knife to his other hand. With a quick toss and flip, he thrust it through the man’s heart. Drawn in by the scuffle, he picked the fifth off with a well-thrown blade to the eye before snapping his fist around the last one’s throat.   
  
Thrusting him straight up, Bucky held the soldier high in the air. Making his point with a tight squeeze, he stripped the man’s gun away with a slash of his other hand before slowly lowering him down. “I have a message for your boss. Come hunting for what’s mine again, and I will end them. I don’t give a shit who they are.” With a mighty throw, he chucked the soldier back out on to the path. “Run, before I change my mind. Then get out before you end up dead.” The man was barely more than a kid. He stumbled away into the dark.    
  
Sirens could be heard screaming from all over to converge on the park. Bucky knew the rest of Hydra’s men would start to fall back. They’d failed in their acquisition and wouldn’t want to lose any more assets than they already had. “Franki? Doll, I need you to answer me,” he called out, listening intently for any sign from her. “I know you’re scared, baby, but we can figure this out. You need help, moya zvezdochka.” He hoped like hell she wasn’t unconscious or he might never find her.  
  
Walking further into the bush, he stopped again to listen. The park had gone deathly still but for the sirens wail. “Come on, doll face. Talk to me!” he growled only to pause. There was a beating, slow, weak, thready, but it had to be her! Her heart just kept giving her away. “Okay, okay, sweetheart.”   
  
Dropping to his knees, Bucky called out, “Friday! I need you to deactivate the suit.” The AI would have kept her in stealth mode as long as there was danger. A change of emerging colour had him snapping his head around to find Frank’s shadow suit turning completely white, giving him a beacon in the dark. “Franki!”  
He pounced on her, rolled her gently to her back. Found a knife sticking from between her ribs. “Oh, god. Stay with me, baby!” Pushing her hood back, he hissed at the bloody foam on her lips. “STARK!” Bucky bellowed.   
  
The man in the Iron suit crashed through the trees not far away. His mask snapped up, and Tony stared in horror at the petite woman. “Give her to me. Helen’s got the room prepped. I can get her back faster.”  
  
Bucky had been almost afraid to touch her but was swift to scoop her up and deposit her in Tony’s arms. “Tony…”  
  
“Everything we can, Barnes,” he promised before his facepiece snapped down and Tony took off.   
  
Bucky raced back to where he’d left Steve only to find the others waiting for him. He was quick into the jet. When Scott, Vision and Sam remained on the ground, he looked to Steve.  
  
“They’re going to deal with police. Make sure everything gets cleaned up before morning.” It wouldn’t do to have civilians come across a dead Hydra agent. “Managed not to blow anything up at least,” Steve said. “Bucky?”  
“There was a knife in her, and blood on her mouth,” Bucky said, thrusting his hands through his hair. “Steve.”  
  
Despair filled blue eyes looked up at him, and Steve felt more helpless than he had as the little guy he’d once been. “She’s a fighter, Buck. She’s going to make it.”  
  
“Yes, Franki will be alright,” Wanda agreed, holding a towel to her arm. An agent had gotten off a lucky ricochet, but it was only a graze.  
  
“That girl’s tough,” Clint called from the cockpit.  
  
“And she’s got her healing powers don’t forget,” Natasha offered. “She’s going to be fine.” She had to believe Franki would pull through. Any other option was intolerable.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Thirteen

* * *

Hours later, Bucky sat at Franki’s bedside. His hand was latched firmly around her wrist. Legs up, feet crossed on the bed beside hers which someone – likely Steve – had pulled over for him when he’d refused to move from her side. The sheet was dirty. He hadn’t bothered to take his boots off.

His head was tilted back, resting against the edge of the less than comfortable chair, but he’d slept in worse places. It was out of self-preservation he was in such a position. The physical contact was the only thing allowing him to rest at all, even if it was the half sleep state he used when on missions.

Arriving back at the tower, he’d stormed down to the med-wing, and slammed through the metal doors in time to watch his woman code on the table. Helen had been covered in Franki’s bright red blood, hollering at the nurses to inject the adrenaline. Then they’d shocked her, causing her body to arc violently off the gurney.

The cry that had wrenched from him when the monitor had continued to show a flat line had been inhuman, animalistic, and he’d rushed the table only to be intercepted by Tony.

Without the suit, the Iron Man would never have stopped him, but Tony had wrapped reinforced metal arms around him and held him back. Bucky could barely hear the man shouting at him to let them work, let Helen do her job. Not over his own violent stream of Russian words. He’d begged, pleaded, and threatened whatever gods were listening, his own or another, that if they took her from him, he would come after her. Whether it was heaven or hell or Asgard itself. He would follow her and bring her back, and no one would stand in his way.

It wasn’t until the small beep sounded more than twice, and Helen had said the most glorious words, _she’s back_ , that he came back to himself. He found Tony braced firmly against his chest, Steve wrapped around the vibranium arm, and both Natasha and Clint wrapped around the flesh one. He’d dragged them all halfway across the room.

Bucky had sagged, just broke against the tide of the people around him. He’d collapsed against Tony. The only words he could speak were ones full of fear.

_S_ _he can’t leave me_.

The knife had clipped a lung and punctured her abdominal aorta. She'd nearly bled to death before they’d gotten her to Helen. Only leaving the knife where it was had saved Francessca’s life and the fact that she healed as fast as she did. Dr. Cho had pumped what seemed like endless pints of fluid into Franki, and her body had done the rest. Even now, the skin where the knife had been was as smooth and unmarked as ever. He'd checked, multiple times.

But he still couldn’t leave. Twice tonight she’d almost left him, once permanently, and he wasn’t letting her out of his sight anytime soon. Hence the reason he was sitting in this back-breaking chair, watching over his little shadow. The beeping that followed her heartbeat was kind of soothing in its rhythm and had lulled him into this half doze.

Tony had come in a short while ago, bringing a picture with him of the man who had assaulted his Francessca in the elevator. One glance was all it took to set him swearing. The little prick from the restaurant, Eric, had been the man behind the mask. Apparently, he'd come seeking revenge for the humiliation he had suffered.

For all the little shit had known of the Romanoff women, his declaration that he was a _fan_ , the fool hadn’t known Franki was more than capable of protecting herself. He’d thought it a contrivance. A whole _women’s empowerment_ thing. Apparently, he'd been wrong and would now pay the price as the nice officers from the NYPD had taken the shit-for-brains idiot into custody.

Even while dozing, the memory of his black eye and, likely, broken jaw, made Bucky smile. His little shadow packed quite a punch.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

The quiet, lilting voice of Friday woke him instantly. “Yeah?”

“While we were out there, Franki asked this of me. There is something you should hear.”

Before he could protest that _now_ was not the time, Franki’s voice, weak and fading, flowed from the speakers. “Tell Bucky… I’m sorry I ran away… tell him… _on byl moim solntsem._ _YA lyubila yego vsem, chem ya yavlyayus'.”_

… _he was my sun. I loved him with all my heart._

His feet hit the floor, and he turned to face the incredibly pale woman looking tiny in the too wide bed.

“Franki,” Bucky sighed, shifting his hold to her hand and bringing it to his lips. “You can’t leave me. _Ty moya devushka,”_ he said, turning her wrist so he could rest her palm against his cheek. “I don’t care, _moya zvezdochka,_ if it is some Hydra crap they put in us that drew us to each other. I love you, Francessca. That’s not false or a lie. You can’t fake or force what I feel for you.” When her fingers moved gently against his face, he snapped his eyes up to find silver looking back. “Franki…”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The pain in her eyes had nothing to do with her body, and all to do with her heart. “There is nowhere else I should be.” Her face just crumpled, and he was on his feet, hand going to her cheek. “Baby, no… don’t do that.”

She pushed weakly at him. “You have to go! Just go! I am a danger to you!”

Her breathing was coming in gasping waves of choking and coughing, making him feel helpless to get through to her. “You are not a danger, _malyutka!_ You could never be!”

“I will get you killed or worse!” She tried to turn away but couldn’t bear to pull her face from his hand. “They will make you,” she gasped, “make you… _him_ again!” Finding some strength somewhere in her tired body she pushed him away. “ _YA ne budu tvoyey slabost'yu!”_

_“_ You are not my _weakness_!” he roared.

“Sergeant Barnes!” Helen Cho barked, striding in the door. “You need to step outside _right now_!”

“That ain’t going to happen!” Bucky snarled, glaring her down.

Glaring right back, Helen marched up to Bucky, grabbed him by the strap on his vest, and dragged him down to her level. “You listen here, Sergeant! I’m trying to help you both, but if you continue to upset _my patient_ I will bar you from this room, and this floor, for an entire day! _You feel me, Barnes_?”

He’d never been afraid of the woman before, wasn’t really scared of her now, but she sure as hell knew how to get her point across. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right outside.”

* * *

Helen let him go and watched him almost slink out the doors before turning back to Francessca. The woman was a shaking mess, curled on her side, facing away from her. Helen could easily hear the soft sobs that she was doing her best to muffle. “Francessca Romanoff, you cut that shit out right now!”

Franki gasped, but it snapped her attention to the doctor that stood with hands planted firmly on her narrow hips at the side of her bed. “What?”

“You had surgery all of,” Helen’s eyes snapped to the clock, “Five hours ago! You coded on the table once, and we _barely_ managed to bring you back. I don’t care if you have superhuman healing powers. Your body cannot handle you putting it through this stress. Now, cut it out!” Smacking her palm against the monstrous floating monitor beside the bed, Helen pulled up the scans Friday had completed while she was scolding her patient, and began to check on all of Franki’s injuries.

Thoroughly chastised, Franki sniffled once, wiping her face with her blanket. After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence, she finally broke it with a murmured, “Thank you, for saving my life.”

Helen snorted. “It wouldn’t have _needed_ saving if you’d just stayed and _talked_ to me about those files.” Tapping a few more places on the clear pad, she glanced at Franki whose eyes had grown very round. Huffing softly, she tucked the monitor back against the wall and flopped down in Barnes’ vacated chair. “It’s not what you think, Franki.” A sculpted chestnut brow arched regally, queen to peasant, and Helen almost snickered.

“I wasn’t chemically enhanced to be a walking piece of bait aimed at Bucky?”

“Jeez, Franki!” Slapping a hand to her eyes, Helen sighed heavily. Dropping it to the arm of the chair, she gripped it tightly and glared at the petite woman. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told everyone else. _Pheromones_ can’t make you fall in love! What Hydra was doing, what they _tried_ to do? It wasn’t working, Franki. They were terminating the program. You were slated for execution the day you were rescued.”

“… what?” Horror filled the word.

“They were trying to get this… _breeding program_ up and running, and they had been using the others, the other weapons, as trials with the winter soldiers that were left but… you likely know how well that worked out.” Getting to her feet, Helen walked around the room to look out the window. “Steve told me once that Dr. Erskine, the doctor who gave him the serum, said that the serum amplifies everything that is inside, so good becomes great; bad becomes worse, and so on. You’re a good person, Franki, very good now I think, and that goodness is what is driving you to push Bucky away. But you are being stupid.”

“How is wanting to keep him safe stupid?”

“Because you’re too late!” Helen snapped, turning around. Again she pressed her hands to her face, scrubbing them down her cheeks. Why was it always the _heroes_ that had to be so damn stubborn? Sighing, she came over and perched on the edge of Franki’s bed.

“I don’t understand what they did or how they did it, _yet_ , but I’m working on it. What I do know is that this… _bond_ the two of you have established, it’s not going anywhere, Franki. It’s there, and it’s likely permanent. Fighting it will only make it harder.”

Gasping softly, Franki pressed her fingers to her mouth. “That’s…” Had everything she’d done, put them all through, been for nothing?

“Let me tell you what I know before you freak out, okay?” Helen said. When Franki very slowly nodded, she breathed a silent sigh of relief. “The program you were part of, first and foremost, was a _failure_. None of the other weapons, in any way, had the same kind of reactions that you have had with Bucky. They manipulated your endocrine system and changed you in more extreme ways because you could handle it. Your ability to heal kept you interesting to them. Their ultimate goal was, at the time, to dump you on the Avengers doorstep and turn you loose on Bucky, but when their experiments with the others continued to fail over and over, and they couldn’t use that machine to make you compliant, they decided it was time to cut their losses and move on. They couldn’t test their theory with you, and they weren’t willing to put effort into retrieving you if the whole thing was just another bust.

So, here’s the thing, Francessca. Yes, biologically, they got it right with you. Amazingly right. You and Bucky _fit_. Your skin comes in contact with his, and there is this chemical reaction which I haven’t quite got figured out yet. You are, quite frankly, _perfect_ for each other on a molecular level, but what you feel here,” Helen pressed her fingers to her heart, “Is not some quirk of your nature. If all that was between you was some Hydra manipulation, you two would have succumbed to biology shortly after you met. But you didn’t! You worked and lived, side by side, for almost a _year_. No skin to skin contact, and these feelings you have, the love you share? It’s all real, Franki. None of that is a lie.”

“But… I’m a danger to him,” Franki whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks.

“How? Hydra doesn’t know their experiment worked, and if you’re talking about this bonding with Bucky, it has done more _good_ than harm.”

Franki shook her head in disbelief. “Good? How is this good? Being apart… it was like…”

“Dying?” Helen asked.

“Yes,” Franki whispered.

“I can, probably, fix that, but Franki, because of what you have with Bucky, you have this.” Helen held up the hand she was clasping, and Franki stared at it in disbelief.

“How?” she whispered, awe lacing her voice. Helen’s touch felt no different than Steve’s or Nat’s or Tony’s. She hadn’t even noticed when the woman had taken her hand.

“Science, my dear Franki. Science.” Helen chuckled and squeezed her fingers. “I can’t explain it just yet, but when you and Bucky touch, his chemistry and yours balance each other. He lowers your sensitivity to contact. You elevate his serotonin levels. Essentially, you make Bucky _happy_ , and he keeps you calm.” And she couldn’t think of a better candidate than Barnes for such a feat. He’d had enough sorrow and trauma to last a dozen lifetimes. “All the pheromones are doing is making you smell really good to each other, am I right?” Franki blushed, and Helen chuckled. “He needs you, Franki, and you need him.”

“But… Hydra came for me tonight.”

Patting the woman’s hand, Helen sighed softly. “Francessca, you and Bucky have not exactly been _discrete_ in your relationship. They would have come for any woman Barnes showed an interest in. At least you are more than capable of protecting yourself. You can thank Hydra for that much.” Getting to her feet, Helen headed for the doors. “Even if they were to suspect your _conditioning_ worked, they would have expected Bucky to go for you within weeks of you two meeting. The fact he didn’t?” She shrugged. It was a non-issue to her. “I will be staying here to go through that hard drive, figure out everything I can about what was done to you, but afterwards, Mr. Stark has already decreed that the records will be destroyed. No one but the immediate team will ever know anything about this. I’m available to you if you have more questions, and I’d like to run more tests.”

“Helen?” Franki called out before she reached the doors. When the woman turned back, Franki gave a small smile and nodded. “Thank you. For everything.”

Pausing, Helen smiled and smoothed a hand over her hair. “I like you, Franki. Life’s been rough for both you and Sergeant Barnes. Don’t push him away because you’re afraid of what you don’t understand. Listen to your heart. Maybe what Hydra’s done,” she shrugged again, “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing. You’re cleared to leave the infirmary and go get some rest. You’re all healed up.”

“But… you said I couldn’t handle the stress of crying?” Franki pointed out.

 A cheeky smile spread on Helen’s lips. “I lied.” She stepped beyond the doors to find most of the team waiting and Barnes pacing. “Sergeant.”

“Ma’am?” Bucky snapped his head around.

“You upset my patient again, and you’ll regret it.” Turning to the rest of the concerned faces she said, “Francessca will be just fine. She’s completely healed up, though I don’t want her training for a few days.”

* * *

Bypassing all of them, Bucky stalked through the doors with swift, purposeful strides towards the bed where the chestnut-haired woman was curled up. She rolled over to face the doors, but her eyes widened, and her face paled further with his arrival. It pissed him off for she looked… _scared._ Franki had never been scared of him in the year they’d been a team. It was like getting kicked hard in the boys. “Baby, we gotta talk.”

“Bucky… I…”

She sat up, but it mattered little when he wrapped the blankets around her and lifted her over his shoulder.

“Barnes! What the hell!?” Franki shrieked in outrage, wiggling enough to get her arms free.

“Bucky!?” Steve hollered from the doorway. “What are you doing!?”

“Jeez, Barnes! She just had surgery!” Natasha barked.

Striding for the door, the man who was the winter soldier snarled, “Move.”

“James _Buchannan_ Barnes! You put me down right this second or so help me!” Franki shrieked, hair hanging in her face.

“Not happening, doll. We are going to talk and do so in a place where you can’t run from me. Now, everyone, get the _fuck_ out of my way!”

Hard eyes, gleaming in a glacial blue so cold it made him shudder, had Steve taking a slow step to the side. “Come on, pal. You’ve got to be careful with her.” Healed up or not, Franki had coded on the table barely five hours ago.

“Butt out, Rogers!” Bucky snapped.

Smacking him on his butt, Franki had a moment of déjà vu. “Barnes! Put me down!”

“You be quiet, too!” He gave her blanketed behind a firm swat.

“Bucky!” she squealed in shock. When he was suddenly on the move again, she peered through her hair to see too many grinning faces and cried out, “Traitors! The entire lot of you!” Falling silent, Franki pouted at the way she was being manhandled and hauled around like a sack of old potatoes.

“Dr. Cho? How is this him _not_ upsetting her?” Sam asked the doctor who’d been strangely quiet throughout the whole scene.

Helen smiled serenely up at Sam before walking away without saying a word. She needed a drink, a stiff one, and a few hours face down on a firm surface before getting back at it. Bucky was going to work this shit out, and she wished him all the luck in the world. The man had hearing like a damn wolf. She knew he’d heard every word she’d said to Francessca.

“Doctor?”

Narrowing her eyes at Tony, Helen drawled cautiously, “Stark?”

“You look like a woman who could use a drink,” he chuckled softly and offered his arm.

Accepting with a raised brow, she smirked a half grin. “As long as you make it a double.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fluff, a lot of smut. Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Chapter Fourteen (NSFW)

 

* * *

Bucky didn’t stop until he was in his room, door shut with the locks engaged. She wasn’t getting out of there anytime soon.  Reaching his bed he flipped her up, stripped the blankets from Franki’s body, and carefully laid her across it. He stared down into annoyed silver eyes. “You ran from me.

“I thought I was doing the right thing!”

“You thought wrong!” Shaking his head, Bucky pressed his hands to either side of her and just stayed still. A mountain of unresolved emotions, churning, burning inside him, were waiting to volcano outwards at any moment. He took a deep breath. “You told me you didn’t need to run. That I’d already caught you. But you left. You left me! Goddammit, Francessca!”

“Bucky…” she murmured, hating how harsh his voice was, how cold his eyes had become.

“No! No, Franki. Don’t you get it? I _can’t_ let you go! Everything I’ve ever done has been out of duty. Join the war for my country? Check. Choose to stay to watch Steve’s back? Check. Nearly die? Check and fucking double check! Go to Wakanda and get as good as I possibly can because… because… _fuck_! I can’t leave Steve here to deal with all this shit on his own. But you. _You_ , Francessca, are the _first_ thing I ever looked at and thought, _she’s mine_. Not for duty or out of some sense of responsibility. Not out of some Hydra fucking _bullshit_ they put in us, but because you are _fucking mine_! And I can’t let you go! I haven’t wanted anything for myself since before I joined up _except you,_ and I can’t let you leave me! I _won’t_! Because I love you so damn much that thinking of me without you is like… like…”

“Dying,” she whispered.

“Yeah. And I’ve done that, Franki, or nearly, a couple of times.” He had never felt anything like it before until now. “I don’t like it. It feels like there is a hole in me that just keeps bleeding.”

“Oh, Bucky,” she sighed, and watched his head fall so that the ends of his hair brushed against her.

He’d said he wouldn’t let her go, but she was reasonably sure that if she told him to let her up, and if she found the will to walk out his door he would let her. But with all Helen had said she would be insane to leave now. It wouldn’t change anything, likely only make them both miserable, and even if Hydra had tampered with them did that make them any less happy when they were together? It wasn’t why she loved him.

Closing her eyes, Franki swallowed around the thick lump in her throat before finding the courage to look again at his face.

“Bucky?” Reaching for him slowly, she lightly cupped his jaw. When he finally looked at her, all she could see was pain and despair, all hope gone, and she cried out softly. Sliding her hand to the back of his neck she pulled him down. “ _YA tvoya devushka. Ty moye solntse. YA ne mogu zhit' bez tebya.”_

_…I am your girl. You are my sun. I can’t live without you._

Shuddering with her words, Bucky pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, Franki.”

Tears spilled into her hair. She gasped out harshly, “I do mean it!”

“Then say it. Say it! _Skazshi chto lyubish menya!_ ” He gripped a handful of her hair like a lifeline, demanding she tell him the truth.

“I love you!” Franki shouted. Crying softly, she gently tugged his shaggy locks and whispered, “I love you, Bucky. No one but you.”

He pressed fevered kisses to her lips and jaw, groaning, “I need you, Francessca. I need to touch you, hold you, be inside you. I can’t wait any longer. Let me love you. Let me make you mine.”

_“Da, snegopad._ Make love to me, Bucky _.”_

He reared back and ripped the thin cotton gown she was wearing straight down the middle, making her gasp.

“I won’t stop, _malyutka._ Not until I’ve touched every part of you with my hands, my mouth, my tongue. Not until I’ve sunk inside you and tasted you again. I’m gonna sink inside your soul, baby. Brand myself there so that you are as caught as I am.” Her eyes had grown darker, heavy-lidded, and he sank his left hand behind her neck, lifting her up to take her mouth in an act of possession.

His lips caressed hers, and she moaned quietly with the contact. Heat licked at her, little tongues of it that stroked her cells into life and followed the path of his warm fingers where they trailed over her hip and up her stomach. His palm found and cupped her breast, moulded it gently to the shape of his hand, and set her shivering. A gasping breath passed from her to him when his thumb drew over her nipple, and she reached with shaking hands for the buckles on his vest. Soft, velvety lips covered hers, drawing, pulling, teasing, making her mind foggy and her fingers weak.

Pulling on the buckles that refused to give, she finally jerked her head back in frustration. “ _S_ _ukin syn_ _!”_ she swore and shoved against his chest.

“Problems, doll face?” he licked his lips, tasting her on them, pulling the bottom one between his teeth to keep from laughing.

Growling, she shoved at him again. “Stand the hell up, Barnes!” She squeaked out a yelp when she found herself upright with him. At times she forgot just how strong he was until he reminded her in such a fashion.

The tattered remnants of her hospital gown fluttered to the floor. She stood before him like Godiva, covered only in her hair. The chestnut locks still contained much of their tight curl from her Halloween costume, and bounced against her, sliding along her smooth flesh in a caress his hands ached to follow. “I told you I wasn’t going to stop touching you, _malen'kaya ten'_.”

“Touch after. You have too much stuff on!” she huffed, glaring up at his laughing eyes, jerking on the buckles a second time. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was naked, but she couldn’t seem to care. All she knew was she wanted all this gear off him.

Sliding his hands down her back, he let them drop to his sides. “Then take it off, baby.”

Her mind went a little white with the invitation. Take it off? Strip back the layers and peel all his clothing off him? _Yes, please,_ whispered a little deviant voice inside her.

Instantly her hands slowed, steadied, softened. The dexterity she’d lost in her initial rush returned. Slowly, she tugged the strap on his shoulder free. Her fingers drifted to the ones beneath his arm, and she pulled first one, then two, then three loose. With the third one, she let her eyes drift back up to deepening blue. The sapphire pools where shadowed by his thick lashes. She gave the final buckle a firm jerk. It rocked him forwards a little, but otherwise, he was immovable.

Catching the vest, Franki drew it down his arm, letting it fall quietly to the floor. The belt he wore which housed extra clips, knives and grenades were already missing. A fleeting thought had her remembering seeing it hanging from the chair in the infirmary. She reached instead for the holstered weapon on his left hip. Her fingers closed around it, and his hand close around hers in a cool brush of metal.

“Careful, _moya zvezdochka_ ,” he murmured, a smirk flirting with his lips. “Wouldn’t want any accidents now, would we?”

A fire lit in her eyes, and the smirk broke free. “ _Snezhinka_ ,” she scoffed, but a smile was playing with her mouth as well.

Placing her hand on his chest, she urged him backwards, one step, two, before pulling the gun slowly, and laying it carefully on the top of his dresser. Letting the hand on his chest wander over his shirt, she drew it over his abs, down to remove the second and third guns from his hip. Tracing her fingertips up his thigh, she pulled both daggers. Once finished, she brought both hands to rest on his legs, drew them firmly upwards, sweeping for more weapons, before sliding them around his waist, causing her breasts to press flush to his body.

He groaned a wanton sound when her breasts pressed against him. She was warm and the tart bite of her scent, the heady fragrance of the moisture gathering on her thighs, was filling his nose. She made to lift his shirt, and he helped, drawing it up over his head when Franki’s shorter reach failed her.

Slightly tanned skin appeared from beneath his shirt. She almost whimpered. He was just so damn sculpted, and Franki gave in to the long-sealed desires of her heart. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his chest.

Bucky froze, shirt stuck on his head when her lips pressed to the skin between his pectorals. Every single cell inside him came alive with the gentle touch. He shuddered. It was like she’d placed a kiss right on his heart, sappy as it sounded.

Pulling the shirt the rest of the way off, he chucked it somewhere in his room, uncaring where it landed. Franki’s hands were in full wander, stroking in gentle patterns and motions, following paths she’d created once before, down to the waist of his pants. They settled there as she used them to help steady her when she pressed up on her toes and placed soft, open-mouthed kisses along his scars. “Franki.”

“Hush, _snegopad,_ ” she murmured, “Does it hurt? Do you hate it? Am I causing you discomfort?” Franki asked, kissing a new mark with each question.

“No to the first two and yes to the third,” he groaned, his cock hard against the zipper that was straining outwards.

“What?” She jerked back only to have her hands captured, and one brought to bear against the stretched material of his pants. Her mouth fell open in sudden understanding. A coy smile flitted over her lips. “Poor, _snezhinka_ ,” she teased softly. “That does appear uncomfortable.”

“You…” he grunted when she gave a testing squeeze. “Damn, baby.”

“You think, maybe, I would be shy, _da_? That I would blush and cover myself?” She smiled and pressed her palm a little firmer against him, stroking the full length, all the way to the tip near the band of his pants.

“Maybe.” Her accent had grown thick, and he could have listened to her talk for hours, but her palm was distracting, and Bucky hissed when she slipped her fingers between fabric and skin. “Francessca.”

“I love how you say that. Just my name. _Francessca_.” She watched his eyes as her fingers wrapped around the length of flesh straining the front of his pants. A fire burned in them, threatened to burn her, and she was ready to be reborn in flames.

His hands found her waist, held on as she tormented him with her bold, yet, somehow still innocent actions. Drawing his fingers up, they encountered a discrepancy in the smoothness of her flesh. He knew instantly it was her blood, dried to her from before.  Reaching for the hand in his pants, he tugged it free and kissed her frowning lips. “Come with me.”

Confused, she followed him to the bathroom, waiting as he turned on the shower. “Bucky?”

“Both of us could use a shower,” he said.

“But… I…” She’d thought he was going to… had he changed his mind?

Seeing the look of confusion shift to rejection, he tugged her closer and turned her to face the mirror. Lifting her arm, he swept her hair out of the way to show her the smear of dark red, dried blood and the sickly brown of the antiseptic wash Cho had poured on her. “I want you, _malyutka_ , but I have no plans on letting you out of my bed anytime in the near future. Best get cleaned up now, so you’re comfortable later, doll face.”

She turned her eyes away. “Oh.”

“Hey, hey, now. What happened to the woman that said she wasn’t going to blush and cover herself?” She’d lost a bit of her confidence somewhere, and he didn’t like it. Sultry silver lifted, and he sucked in air when her nails scratched gently over his ribs.

Sighing softly, Franki dropped her forehead to his chest. “Is not that,” she sighed. “I… avoid looking in the mirror when I have been… injured.”

“Why?” Ignoring the storm of urges in his body, Bucky grasped her chin and lifted her eyes back to this. “Why, _Francessca_?”

She never should have told him about that. He was going to use it against her now and did her best to ignore the clench of her belly. “The cell they kept me in, the glass on the front was like a mirror. I spent more time looking at myself bloody than I did clean.”

“Tell me the rest.” He could see it flicker like a shadow in her eyes. There was more, and he’d have no secrets between them. “Tell me the rest of it, _moya zvezdochka._ ” Her eyes closed, pain showing on her face, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to her quivering lips. “ _Ya veryu v tebya._ ”

_… I believe in you._

She trembled beneath the onslaught of his love. He always had been unfailingly in his belief in her. “They never let me get fully clean. A douse with a hose to remove the worst of the blood, but I was rarely _clean_. Seeing blood on my skin is like… like…”

Her voice broke, and he cupped her face between his palms. “You are not back there, Franki. You’re right here, with me, in my arms.” Her hands closed around his wrists, and he knew she was using him as an anchor, pulling herself out of the memories that continued to haunt her. “That’s right, baby. Come back to me, Francessca.”

Only he could know so well what she struggled with. How the memories could pull her back until it was as if she lived them. Every breath full of the scent of blood and death and the chemical antiseptics they poured on everything. How the space she was in disappeared, and the cell she’d lived in appeared around her until something knocked her out of the past. Gasping softly, she inhaled hard the scent of smoke and snow. “Bucky.”

“Just breath, doll.” She did, slowly, carefully. When the trembling slowed to a stop, the hands around his wrists softened their grip, he released her face to take her hands, and bring them back to his waist. “Take them off, Francessca.”

Stroking her hands over the fabric, she managed to pop the button and slowly drag down the zipper, her knuckles brushing the length of him. They fell with her gentle tug after catching on his nicely rounded buttocks. The tight band of his boxers was next. She slipped her thumbs beneath the elastic, caressing the skin encased with a small sweep of her hand. Slowly, like unwrapping a present, Franki worked the confining fabric over his hips and tried to ignore the rabbit pounding of her racing heart.

She’d never done this before, but Natasha had been nothing if not thorough in her explanation about what to expect, what to do, what _not_ to do, and what the vast majority of men liked and appreciated from their woman. Wanda had been a secondary fount of knowledge, but putting it into practice was always way more difficult than theory.

Bucky watched through half-lidded eyes as she slowly pulled his boxers down. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to be the sexiest thing he’d ever seen or if it was her startling innocence which made her move like that, but he was certainly enjoying the soft touches. She peeled his shorts down, exposing his cock an inch at a time until the heavy shaft finally sprang free to bob near her cheek.

She made no sound of surprise, though her heart jumped once, kicking into an even faster beat. He was large, ridged and veined, and she pulled the boxers down to his calves. Ignoring the beast of a cock which stood proudly between his thighs, she moved her hands to his boots and quickly released the laces. “Step out, Bucky.”

He’d never really understood the whole dominant-submissive thing that played out so prominently in today’s society. The whole phenomenon was a bit of a mystery to him. He would never raise a hand to a woman in the bedroom, couldn’t do it, and with all he’d been through he’d had enough _submission_ to last him three lifetimes. But seeing his Francessca on her knees, her beautify hair cascading down her stunning body, was a whole new form of pleasure. He stepped quickly out of his clothes. But, when she reached for him, he caught her hands, drawing her back to her feet. “In the shower, baby.” He had other plans now that he knew about her issue.

She stepped beneath the warm spray, tilting her face up, lifting her hands to cup a small handful and bring the water to her lips. Her throat had gone dry with her confession, and, though it was warm, it soothed some of the ache.

Bucky shut the door behind him. He stood watching her for a moment. Watched the water soften the curl in her hair, causing it to lengthen until it hung past the curve of her ass. Watched trickling rivulets stream down her skin, over her breasts, between her thighs. The water darkened all her hair, and Snow White once again replaced Red in his mind.

The big stone enclosed shower with its many jets and rainfall head gave him wicked ideas for things to do with her at a later date but, for now, he reached into the shelf that held her bottles of soap, picking up the one labelled shampoo. It smelled mildly of vanilla, and he thought maybe honey as he stepped up behind her. Slowly, he worked the substance into her hair. It lathered pink. He gritted his teeth when patches of white scalp appeared underneath the dried blood but didn’t say anything. It was glaringly apparent that she’d torn out a few chunks of hair at some point tonight.

Unaware of his pique, Franki sighed softly into the sensation of strong fingers cleaning her hair. His hands followed the length, skimmed her back. Skated over her buttocks. It made her shiver, and a moan escaped her lips.

His irritation with her disappeared with the sexy little sound. “Rinse,” he murmured near her ear. She ducked beneath the spray, and he reached for the second bottle.

Again those hands, those heavenly fingers where dragging through her hair, pressing at her scalp, creating tingles of sensation that streaked her spine. It was bliss. She pressed her hand to the wall to stay upright when her knees weakened. He worked his hands down the length, smoothing and detangling as he went, making her wonder vaguely how he knew to do that right before he gathered the heavy mass, and twisted it into a tail he could lay over her shoulder.

Taking the cloth he snagged from the shelf beside the door, Bucky wet it, dumping a generous amount of her vanilla scented shower gel on it. It lathered swiftly between his hands, the heady fragrance filling the space as he swept it gently across her shoulders and down her back. He followed the curve of her spine, slicking the cloth over every inch of skin, around her waist and up her ribs. More bloody lather and sickly yellow antiseptic washed from her body, trickling down the drain in swirling clashes of colour.

When every speck of red, and ever splash of yellowish brown was finally gone, when her back and sides glowed a healthy pink from his attention, he dropped slowly to his knees. Taking the cloth to her legs, washing each sculpted calf, each long, slim hamstring, firm muscular quads. The curve and swell of both cheeks. He listened to the ragged breathing and soft moans that spilled from her lips.

She held herself up against the wall, legs shaking slightly, body swamped in sensation. When he rose up behind her once more, she groaned softly for his hands, landing gently on her hips, pulled her firmly back into his body. The weight of his cock snuggled up against her buttocks, his hands drifted over her hip bones, and the soapy cloth found all new territory. “Oh God, Bucky…”

“Breathe, _malyutka,_ ” he whispered tracing small circles over her abdomen. There was a single swipe of brown beneath her breast, and he wiped it quickly away, scrubbing just a little when the spot proved stubborn. “Close your eyes.” She did, and he tugged her fully underneath the spray where he could rinse out her hair, making sure to follow the directions on the bottle he’d read earlier that night. Her hair thrilled him, and he’d curiously wondered what she did to make it seem so soft and shiny. The bottles in his shower gave him a new appreciation for how much work women put into their appearance.

Once he was sure she was as clean as he could make her, he leaned down and pressed his lips to the skin beneath her ear, taking his hands back to her hips. One worked up, the other down until metal caressed mounded flesh and beaded nipple, and flesh skated through carefully groomed curls to pass gently between slick lips.

Franki’s hips gave an involuntary thrust when warm digits pressed to the bundle of nerves between her legs. Moaning, she chased his hands with her own, cupping the back with her palms, needing to touch him in some small way. “ _Snegopad, mne nrvitsya kogda ti trogaesh menya tam_.”

… _I like it when you touch me there._

“Where?” he murmured, nipping at her ear. “Here, _malen’kaya ten’?”_ Bucky asked running his thumb over her nipple. “Or here?” His fingers delved deeper between her folds. A soft cry fell from her lips when he tugged at the swelling bud. “I think this is a very good place to touch my girl.”

_“Da,”_ Franki sighed when he did it a second time. “Bucky, _please_!”

He spun her quickly around, pressing her back against the stones. His mouth was on hers just as fast, sucking on her lips, sliding his tongue between her teeth. He played with her as he caged her against the wall, body heavy, pressed fully to Franki’s. Her hands reached for him, but he was having none of it, quickly capturing them both, twinning their fingers together.

Breaking away to breathe, Bucky lay his forehead on her smooth brow and moaned at the feel of silken skin, soft and giving beneath his own. “You’re so sexy, baby. I just want to devour you.”

“I guess the wolf gets his Red in the end after all,” she said, nipping at his lips, causing their noses to brush together. She arched into him, rubbing gently, sending bolts of pleasure streaking through her with the drag on her nipples. “I feel so… so good…”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Francessca _._ ” Drawing back he pressed a tender kiss to her swollen lips and freed his hands to place them softly on her hips. Looking into her darkened silver eyes, he whispered, “Don’t forget to breathe, _malyutka_.”

Her eyes widened when his mouth dropped to her throat, began to nip and suck its way down her chest. Hands of contradicting textures skated up her ribs until both cupped a breast, lifting and squeezing as thumbs and fingers tweaked and plucked her nipples. They were rolled and tugged, making her knees shake, and a soft cry burst from her when a metal hand lifted the right, and hot, moist air engulfed her flesh. A louder crying accompanied a gulp of breath as she threaded her fingers into his hair to grip it tightly, the other hand sank her nails into his shoulder when he bit her gently, pulling firmly on the hard bead until it popped free from his lips.

“Jeez! Bucky! Fuck!” She yelped when he switched sides, lavishing more attention on her breasts.

“Eventually, doll, eventually.” He’d get to the fucking soon enough, but for now, he was more interested in driving her a little crazy. He placed a kiss between her breasts, one that landed directly over her heart, mimicking her move from before. Bucky looked up into silver eyes gone glassy as he slowly worked his way down her heaving abdomen, over the soft muscles of her belly, to place a kiss on her belly button, and settle slowly to his knees. “You with me, doll?” he murmured, sliding his tongue across her flesh.

“ _Da_ , always,” Franki breathed out on a sigh when teeth closed on her thigh. “Bucky… _please_.”

“Shh, easy, baby,” he murmured, dragging his nose across her hip bone and placing a kiss where it protruded slightly. “We’ll get there.”

She wanted him to get there _now_. The place between her thighs ached so badly for his touch she rocked helplessly towards him. _“Bozhe moi!”_ Franki could feel wetness slide down her thighs. It had nothing to do with the water that steamed the space around them.

Nipping gently just above the trimmed nest of curls, Bucky breathed deeply and groaned. She smelled just so fucking incredible. He knew it was the _pheromones_ Cho had talked about, but he didn’t care. It was so amazing, so good, he wanted to eat her up. “Do you remember how I touched you with my hands, Francessca? How I had this one inside you?” he asked, squeezing gently with his metal hand on her thigh. She nodded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, “This time, hands-free, baby.” Confusion flashed as he gently lifted her leg to his shoulder.

Understanding dawned in her silver eyes, and he couldn’t look away, watching her as he dipped his head and ran his tongue slowly up the weeping lips of her core. He nearly swore, would have too, if not for the fact that he had no desire to remove his tongue from the heavenly treat he’d been given.

Franki’s head fell back against the stones when he cupped her buttocks and jerked her hips to his face. It was the most sinfully erotic thing she’d ever seen. Her lover with his face between her thighs. The slow, methodical exploration set her moaning, groaning, and gripping his hair with both hands. She wasn’t at all sure what he was doing down there, but she only hoped he never stopped. It was like he was studying for a mission. Touching everything with delicate precision. Learning as much as possible before moving on. A particularly intense sweep of tongue over her bundle of nerves had her crying out and tugging him closer. “Right there! Oh, please! Again, _snegopad_!” His lips closed, he sucked on her, flicking the pearl with the tip of his tongue and made her cry out.

Her voice echoed, broke on sobs of pure pleasure. Erratic streams of Russian begging had him growling softly against her. Suckling gently on the swollen jewel, Bucky growled a second time when her hands wrenched at his hair. “Careful there, doll,” he rumbled, running his tongue slowly around her opening, pressing it deep. Her leg locked down across his back, and he smirked a wide grin for he’d known she could strangle him with those thighs.

She’d never felt such intense feelings before. Her body quaked with them, and every time he caught her clit with his tongue or teeth, the tightening coil in her abdomen wound further. He went back to sucking and pulling, licking at her with little flicks or full sweeps, and Franki arched into him, trying desperately to get closer and release the tension that was building in her body in the same fashion she had once before. “Bucky, Bucky, _please_!”

He looked up at her flushed face, heavy-lidded eyes, the small marks he’d left on her skin, the kiss darkened lips, and had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. Shifting to the side, he spread her legs farther apart with the breadth of his shoulders, while pulling against her curls with his flesh hand. The metal one clamped around the thigh that lay over his shoulder. “Tell me, Francessca. Say it. _Skazshi chto lyubish menya._ ”

… _say that you love me._

_“_ I love you, Bucky.” His blue eyes fired. She took a deep breath for they were filled with his love for her, and, when he lowered his wet mouth back to her body, Franki closed her eyes, leaned her head against the wall and gave herself over to the waves of lust that filled her.

She was his now. He’d never let her go again and Bucky dove back in, claimed what he’d won, taking his reward in the form of her body. His fingers spread her lips apart. He closed his mouth over her swollen clit, pulling, sucking, flicking it rapidly. Feeling the quaking begin in the thigh his metal hand was clamped around, he drew back to blow a stream of air over her glistening core before lapping at the heavy flow of cream that spilled from her. “You going to come for me, baby?”

Gasping, Franki rocked her hips into his mouth, managing to groan out, “If you’d ever stop _playing_.”

“You want me to stop playin’, _sweetheart?_ ” he drawled, gently nipping her clit and making her jolt. “Then tell me what you want.”

The burn was growing into an inferno that shook her legs and clamped a heavy hand around her womb, but it wasn’t enough. He watched her intently, blue eyes focused and hot, his tongue flicking out to drag over her every few seconds, keeping her right on edge. “I want,” releasing the grip she had on his hair, she stroked her fingers over his scalp, carding through the wet locks gently. “I want you, _James_. Only you.”

His cock twitched hard with her words, but it was his heart that swelled and turned over. “Baby…” he breathed reverently. “You’ve got me.” Before she could say anything more, he pressed his tongue to her clit, working her up swiftly. Her breathy moans were sweet music that blended with the scent of frost and vanilla, and the heavy steam that surrounded them. It made him fucking nuts. He released the hold he had on her thigh to slide a metal finger deep inside with a gentle thrust.

It was all she needed. Franki screamed his name when everything inside her broke open and poured out. The feeling of being _alive_ swamped her, and she gasped a sobbing breath, hands closing in his hair as he continued to lick and suck gently, thrust that smooth finger in and out, extend the orgasm that caused her legs to shake.

Slipping his finger into his mouth, Bucky growled at the taste of her release. _“YA mechtayu o tvoyem tele,”_ he murmured, pressing a kiss to her clit that made her shudder.

_… I dream about your body._

“Stop dreaming, _lyubov_ _moya_ ,” Franki whispered, caressing his stubble roughened cheek. “I’m right here.”

Her eyes were dark, passion glazed, filled with so much love it ached in his chest with his own rush of emotion. Turning his face into her thigh, he kissed it as he ran his hand down the side, slipping it from his shoulder. Climbing slowly to his feet, Bucky pressed soft kisses to her body as he stood, creating a trail of them that led back to her heart, her throat, and finally her lips. Her arms went around his neck. He stepped back, moving her away from the rough stone before picking her up. Strong legs wrapped his waist, and hot, wet folds slid over his cock when it nestled into the cradle of her thighs.

He could have snarled with how good she felt. How hot and right. He could have shifted her a few inches up, sank into the heaven that waited, but he wouldn’t. Not yet.

Reaching for the tap, he shut the water off, leaving them in foggy silence, shrouded in the scent of sex and vanilla, broken only by the sound of ragged breathing. Holding her tight to him, vibranium beneath her and flesh across her back, Bucky latched into silver eyes, holding her gaze as he pushed open the shower door, and took her back to his bed.

Franki’s mouth opened on a breathless groan for with every step the hot shaft between her thighs, the one pressed thickly to her core, rubbed her clit in a most delicious fashion that had her body firing back into life. “Bucky, _ty nuzhen mnye._ ”

“I need you too, _moya zvezdochka._ So much. Let me do this for you,” he said placing a tender kiss to her lips as he drew back the sheets, settling on his bed with her. They were both wet, but he didn’t care. There would be more than enough heat between them to dry out his sheets. But he was going to love her, worship her, take her this first time like the treasure she was. “ _Ty mne doveryayesh'?_ ”

“ _Da_ , I trust you, _snegopad_.” Her legs slipped from his hips. Her hand went to his jaw. Her fingers trailed down to his lush lower lip, and held there for she was caught by eyes of blue so deep, she felt like she could see his soul.

Hungry for her, Bucky rolled into her smaller frame, holding her against his body as he kissed her. Slow, deep, drugging kisses that warmed the blood sent surge after surge of lust through his body. Gently he trailed his metal fingers along her back and hip, down the outer edge of her thigh and back up.

Her skin hummed with every soft touch. Every sip of her lips made them tingle, and when, finally, after what felt like hours of exploration, he pressed her further into the mattress, Franki sank her nails into his back. Drawing them slowly downwards, she smiled as he moaned. She’d barely gotten a taste of all his body had to offer. When their legs tangled together, she used her very special skill set to flip him to his back and straddled his torso.

“Francessca,” he growled, closing his hands on her hips. “What are you up to, _lyubimaya_?”

 She smiled and stroked her fingertips over his chest. “ _Ty takoj krasivyj._ So very handsome. You have such beautiful muscle.” Damp curls fell from her shoulders to slide over his arms when she leaned down and pressed her lips to his chest. “Can you blame me for wanting to touch as well?” Franki said, sliding her tongue over thick, strong flesh to the bud of a perky brown nipple. She flicked it, making him grunt.

He slipped his hands to her ass, the flesh giving beneath his fingers when he squeezed. “Frank… Franki.” Breath hissed out between his teeth when she closed her lips around his nipple and sucked. Strong hands glided over his ribs, skipped to his shoulders, dragged down to his biceps and held him captive. Her knees closed on his waist. Scorching wet core pressed down on his abdominals. “Jesus, woman!”

Chuckling softly, Franki bit gently at his chest. “Big strong man, can’t handle a little teasing.”

“You do nothing but tease, _moya zvezdochka._ ” She giggled, making him grin before her mouth was once again tasting his skin, her pink tongue flicking out every so often as she slowly worked her way down his body. Her hips lifted, and she shimmied backwards, nails dragging down his torso. Teeth nipped at his stomach. Bucky finally had to ask, “Damn, doll. How are you so…” she licked a trail over his hip, down towards his cock, and every thought just evaporated.

“Natasha is _very_ good teacher, _da_?” Franki chuckled, tracing her fingers over the trail she’d left with her tongue.

Her hand wrapped around his cock, and Bucky’s hips jerked. “Fuck!” He’d thank the redhead later.

The girth of him gave her pause for but a moment when Franki wrapped her fist around the shaft, fingers failing to come together. Still, she drew her palm up the silky skin. It was much softer than she’d imagined, velvet over steel. The wider flared head beaded liquid which she caught up with her opposite thumb. Bucky watched her, deep blue eyes behind thick lashes, as she brought her thumb to her mouth, placing it between her lips.

Bucky felt something in his brain just snap when her thumb, glistening with his essence, passed between her lips. She sat on his thighs, hair damp and curling, falling over her magnificent bare body, completely comfortable in her nudity. But it was the sound which came from her that had him losing it. No different than a kitten who’d had its ear rubbed, his woman _purred_ at the taste, and he was just so done.

_She fucking_ _purred_.

Rearing up, Bucky yanked her to his chest, metal hand clamping on a fist full of hair to drag her head back and claim her mouth. His lips sealed to hers, demanded entrance. His tongue was dancing through her mouth in seconds. Twisting, twining, fighting a battle he’d already won. He flipped their positions and thrust his knee between her thighs.

She found herself back on her back and gasped. His mouth was hot, seemed to be everywhere at once. Her lips, her chin, her throat. Dragging down her chest to pull at her nipples, skating across her collarbones with an edge of teeth. Closing on the sensitive skin beneath her ear, or sucking hard on the pulse beating in her neck. “Bucky!” she cried out, her knee sliding over his hip. His flesh hand pressed up between her legs, and she whimpered in surprised pleasure when his fingers thrust up inside, sending her flying. “James!” she shrieked.

He pumped into her, the wetness coating his hand, filling the air with her delectable fragrance. Bucky hummed against her skin, shifted his knee to join the other. He grunted when she clamped both thighs around his waist. “Damn, doll…” he muttered.

She was wet, slick with it. Her walls were fluttering quickly around his fingers when he drew them from her. Coating himself with the moisture, Bucky took his cock in hand and rubbed the head over her clit with gentle thrusts. His forehead rested on hers, noses brushing, lips touching, breath mingling.

He felt the pinch of her nails when they closed in his back. “Going to make you mine, but I got to know if you’re on something, baby. Or do I need to get out of this position and go grab some protection.” He had condoms in the drawer of his nightstand, but they weren’t exactly within arm’s reach.

He rubbed over her again, and Franki moaned out, “Good to go, Sarge.” Helen had been a most… _efficient_ doctor when she’d run the first batch of tests a month ago.

A grin broke out on his lips when he looked down into her eyes. “Fuck, I _love_ you, baby!” Bucky sank forwards, his tip pressing between scorching hot folds to stretch her walls. He went slow, knowing he was big and wanting her first time to be good, special. The last thing he wanted to do was surpass her threshold, cause her to tip into numbness.

Franki groaned, arching into him slightly, rocking her hips impatiently at his slow pace. “You won’t hurt me.”

“No, I won’t because I will go slowly, Francessca. You mean everything to me, _malen’kaya ten’_. I refuse to rush this.” Her hips lifted, and he clamped his hand to her waist as he slid deeper. Panting softly, he kissed her lips, nipping at the bottom one before working it with his teeth. “You feel me, baby? Feel this.” He rocked gently and fell further. Her thighs tightened, and he sank farther into the intense pressure of her squeezing walls. “You feel so good, doll face. So good.”

His voice was husky and deep, laboured. Franki whimpered, voice lost to the pleasure screaming through her body. He was so hot, his body like a furnace, she felt seared both inside and out. Unable to take the suspense, Franki locked her arms around his back, heels over his flexing ass, and pulled. He landed with substantial weight, knocking the breath from her lungs, causing her to release a keening moan when his cock bottomed out.

“Jeez, Franki!” he huffed, but _god_ he was balls deep inside this perfect woman, and the barrier he’d thought he might have to break wasn’t an issue. After all the fights she’d been in before the serum, it shouldn’t surprise him, but he’d wonder with her healing factor and that area, too.

“Oh my…” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he moaned. Heat and wet, massaging walls, and the scent of frost and vanilla made him a little light headed. He groaned when she shifted beneath him and reached for her hip. “Ease up, doll.” Her grip on him was intense.

“Oh!” She blushed, relaxing her legs.

Bucky arched a brow and chuckled, “ _That’s_ what finally makes you blush?”

She dug her nails in a little harder. “Shut it, Barnes. Don’t you have something more important to focus on, _snezhinka_?”

“It’s a good thing your pretty,” he growled against her throat. Sliding his metal hand beneath her shoulder, and squeezing the flesh one against her thigh, he slowly began to move.

Tiny gasps spilled from her lips, little-broken sounds, the only noise she seemed able to make as the length of him pulled slowly out, and his muscles flexed beneath her fingers. Then he was pressing back in, and she knew nothing but overwhelming pleasure. “ _Sukin syn!”_

The explicit exploded from her lips, and he seconded it. Hot. Tight. Wet. His focus narrowed down to the woman beneath him and the body he worshiped. She moaned, and he smiled against her throat. Lust streaked him, filled him up, and he gave himself up to her and her body.

He thrust hard enough to rock her into the mattress, and Franki scrabbled against him. All the sensations were so much, so strong, so overwhelming. They were beyond her comprehension. She clutched at him for he was the only stable point left in her suddenly unstable world. “ _Snegopad…_ I can’t…”

“Yes, you can.” He kissed her cheek, continuing to thrust as he lifted up to look down on her. Pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, he kept to the same pace, retreating until just the tip remained before sliding back through her wet folds. Nibbling on her lips, he murmured, “Yes you can, Franki. I’m right here with you. Feel me, baby. Feel how much I love you.”

Crying out, Franki gave herself over to the heat, to the pleasure, and let go of her fear. The coil inside her was strung tighter than Clint's bowstring, and she revelled in the stroking glide that fired all her nerve endings. “Bucky.”

“Say it, _malen’kaya ten’_. Let me hear it from your lips as I love you.” Gripping her thigh, he tilted her hip and sank deeper.

She cried out, hands dragging down his back for he’d caught the place inside her that he’d shown her once before. It slammed a bolt of pleasure through her body so strong she was momentarily speechless. “Bucky… I…” He did it again, and she writhed beneath him, struggled, unsure whether she was trying to get closer or get away.

Heaving up onto his metal hand, Bucky took her lips in a bruising kiss, quickened his pace, and jerked her leg over his elbow. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed more and took it, increasing the force he was using. Flesh slapped against flesh. Sex scented the air with the sweet undertones of vanilla and ice. Until she’d brought it up, he’d never noticed the scent of snow that hung on him, a strange thing, but with the revelation of the pheromones, he knew it was Hydra’s doing.  A side effect of the Winter Soldier project that the group had then turned to their advantage, but it meant little to him in the vast scope of things. She liked it, always said she loved the snow.

“Say it, Francessca,” he coaxed.

Her body burned, her heart ached, and tears threatened when she looked up into sapphire pools that held all the love she could ever hope for. Dragging her hands up his ribs, she moaned quietly, the length of him stroking in and out with speed and force. He was filling her so full, giving her so much, loving her with everything he had. She brought her hands to rest against his face. Drawing him down, she gasped softly with a particularly strong thrust of his hips, eyes closing for a moment before she could catch her breath. She placed a soft kiss to his lips, another to the corner of his mouth, and a third to the dimple in his chin.

“Bucky,” Franki whispered, a quiet cry escaping her, _“_ _YA lyublyu tebya. Ty zastavlyayesh' menya chuvstvovat' ... vse!”_

_… I love you. You make me feel… everything!_

“Franki,” he breathed out reverently, _“YA lyublyu tebya._ With all my heart, _moya zvezdochka.”_

“Then show me, _snegopad_ ,” she murmured against his cheek. “Show me your heart.”

“Francessca,” he moaned. Her hands skimmed over his shoulders and down his back, and he let her leg fall from his arm so he could thrust his hands beneath her buttocks. “Hold on tight, baby.” He felt her tense. Bucky sat up, sat back, and brought her down over his lap. Face to face with her flushed features and hazy, heavy-lidded eyes, lush red lips and messy curls, Bucky couldn’t help but whisper, “God you’re beautiful…”

He rocked into her before she could reply, rocked her hips with his hands, and Franki cried out. He was so deep and hard and hot. She was burning up. Her body on fire and his was the spark, a match to her gasoline. “ _Please_ , Bucky.”

Lifting her higher, dragging her clenching walls over his shaft, Bucky growled when he lowered her swiftly to his thighs. The pressure was building in his core, the need to come growing stronger with the surging burn of his blood. It only became more so with her quiet plea. “Are you ready, Franki? Do you want to come, _malyutka_? Will you bathe me with it?”

“Yes, fuck! Yes!” She loved how he talked to her, deep, dark, a little dirty. “Fuck me! Make me come!” Hands tightened further, and he plowed into her, hearty thrusts that skated close to the edge where pleasure became pain and pain became nothing. It was exquisite in its potency. She threw her head back when he tugged her down to grind his pelvis up.

“Fuck! Franki!” Her hips circled. He snarled before latching on to her throat with his teeth. Right over her pulse as he rocked and thrust and plunged deep, Bucky sucked a new mark, a nice purple one into her skin as silken walls fluttered. “That’s it, baby. Give it to me,” he huffed, panting, sweat gleaming on his body. It matched that which coated hers as they slipped and slid together.

Franki pulled herself into his chest, rode hard, ground down with each thrust to the tightening grip of his hands. “Yes!” she squealed when the coil in her abdomen wound impossibly tight.

“There you go,” Bucky whispered. “There’s my girl. You going to fly for me, doll face?” She moaned, and he grinned. “Come for me, Franki. Let me feel it.”

“Oh, _snegopad_!” she shrieked, the tight coil snapped, walls clamped down hard on Bucky’s stroking shaft.

Another round of nearly unintelligible Russian fell from her lips as she came, hard, strangling his cock in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. She moaned, hands threading through his hair to draw his head back, sink into his mouth.

Groaning, Bucky tumbled her back to the mattress, giving in to the demands of his body. The rhythm he’d established was shot to hell. He plunged deep with erratic movements, driving her back up as quickly as possible until with the last few thrusts, he paused. A rumble built in his chest that he released as a roar when the coil in his own groin finally snapped. Jets of hot seed erupted, and he pressed her forcibly into his bed until the pulsing slowed to a stop.

Franki whimpered with the action, her body throbbing. Every part of her hummed with feeling, with energy, with _life._ She held him to her when he collapsed. “Wow…”

Chuckling softly, Bucky turned his face into her throat. “Yeah… wow.” He’d get off her in a second. Once he found a way to put the bone back in his body. “That was intense. You okay, doll?” She hummed beneath him, nearly purred, and he groaned. “Don’t, ‘less you want to try for round two.”

A smile twitched her lips as she stroked her hands down his bare back. “You are too old to do such things. Your heart would not take it, _da_?”

Rolling over, he took her with him, settling her into the crook of his shoulder. “You tease me after all that?”

The glide of his thick shaft out of her swollen lips made her shudder. “ _Da._ You make it so easy.” In the early morning light filtering around the edge of the blinds on the windows, Franki watched him fight the grin and lose. Resting her hand on his heart, she sighed happily before lifting her eyes to his. “I love you, Bucky.”

Closing his hand over hers, Bucky kissed the crown of her head. _“_ _YA lyublyu tebya,_ Francessca,” he murmured back before reaching for the sheets at the foot of the bed when she yawned big and wide. “Go to sleep, _malen’kaya ten’_.”

“What? No round two? Such a disappointment. Where is this _stamina_ I hear so much about?” she teased, curling closer, eyes already closing.

“Go to sleep, Franki.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring her teasing, listening to her breathing slow and deepen. Drawing her closer so she could sleep more on his chest than against it, Bucky sighed as he drew her thigh over his. “I love you so much it makes me stupid.”

“Love does not make you do the stupid things,” she whispered, kissing his chest and falling into oblivion.

Grinning like a maniac, Bucky was quick to follow her under. In the soft light of dawn, he’d finally found all he could have ever hoped for.

* * *

Hours later, Franki woke to heat beneath her, sun in her face, and someone’s incessant knocking. It was quiet knocking, but it was still knocking. Opening her eyes, she squinted at the shaft of sunlight which hit her in the eyes and looked down at Bucky sprawled out underneath her. He was face down, dead to the world, clutching his pillow.

It was _adorable_.

Grinning, she peeled herself slowly from his spine, slipping silently from the bed. Hanging off a lamp was his shirt from last night. She pulled it over her head. It smelled of him and gunpowder, had bullet holes in the sleeve, and fell to mid-thigh. It swamped her, but her hospital gown was in tatters. She didn’t have any other options if she was going to answer the door. Besides, she kind of liked it. It was like wearing a piece of him.

Pulling the bedroom door nearly closed, she skirted the couch and muttered, “Alright already. I’m coming.” Yanking on the door, she nearly jerked her arm from the socket when it didn’t even give. “Stupid locks.” A large hand fell against the door frame. Franki jolted in surprise. “Bucky?”

“Leaving, _malyutka_?” Snaking his metal hand around her waist, he tugged her back against him. “I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on you leaving my clothes behind.”

She eyeballed him over her shoulder and huffed, “I was just getting the door!”

“Why?” he grumbled, still fuzzy with sleep. He’d been having the best sleep of his life until she’d left his bed.  The knocking came again, snapping his attention to the door. “Who the fuck is that?”

“If you would be so kind as to unlock the door, _snezhinka_ , I will find out!” Franki growled.

Grumbling about it, Bucky slapped his hand to the plate beside the door before yanking on the handle. “What?!”

Natasha smirked as she held out the bundle of clothes and looked from Franki’s wild cascade of curls to what was clearly a _very_ naked Barnes, his manly bits hidden only by the woman in front of him who was drowning in his shirt. “I just thought Franki might want a change of clothes, seeing as how she left with only that paper gown on.”

“Thank you, _sestra_.” Franki smiled, taking the bundle before slapping a hand back against Bucky’s arm. “And you did not want to open the door.”

“Goodbye, Natasha,” Bucky growled, shutting the door in her face, and reengaging the locks. Wrenching the bundle of clothes from Franki’s fingers, he threw them at the couch. “I want my shirt back,” he rumbled against Franki’s ear.

“But… I… you, _huh_?” She was very confused. He had been very rude to Nat. Then she felt it. The heavy shaft that was pressed up against her buttocks, and squeaked a quiet sound of surprise.

He spun her around, shoving her back into the door, grabbed her by the thighs and levered her up the wall. Holding her there balanced on his thigh, Bucky made quick work of stripping his shirt from her body. “Who said you could leave my bed, Franki?”

His hands were everywhere, stroking, squeezing, plucking, rolling her nipples. Franki blossomed into arousal so swiftly, she gave a needy groan. “Bucky, _please_!”

He took possession of that sweet, pleading mouth and slid easily, lazily inside her wet sheath only to moan, “God, baby. You’re soaked, and I’ve barely touched you.”

Her head banging back against the door went unfelt as his hips snapped up, sending a bolt of pleasure straight through her. “Fuck! James!”

“I am baby, I am. Going to fuck you so good, Francessca.” She whimpered, and he pressed his mouth to her throat, hips slapping deliciously into hers. Tight walls were clamping down, wringing and choking his cock. He knew with ridiculous certainty that he wouldn’t last long.

Closing her hands at the back of his neck, Franki wrapped her legs around his waist, crying out when he increased the speed of his hips. “Oh god, Bucky. Right there!”

He tilted her hips a bit further and watched her mouth fall open, her pupils blown wide. He growled excitedly when the keening wail left her lips. Her thighs clamped on his waist, and he was forced to use short, sharp thrusts, ones that bumped his head repeatedly to the back of her sheath. It was fucking amazing, and he closed his teeth into the junction of her shoulder and throat.

Franki saw stars, her body lit up, and she screamed her climax to the ceiling.

He grunted with the power of her orgasm, swearing loudly, “Damn, baby. Fuck! You’re killing me.” Her body clamped down on him, forcing his release from him in quick, hard burst of hot seed.

Outside the door, Natasha grinned wide, snickering at the blush that filled Steve’s face. “We may want to switch floors.” Her sister and Barnes were _quite_ vocal.

Wandering by, Sam grumbled, “Isn’t going to help. My place is above his. They had a _very_ good time making up.”


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, super fluff, violence, Russian that may or may not be correct.

## Epilogue

* * *

A year had passed, nearly to the day since Bucky had bodily dragged Francessca to his room. They’d had their share of ups and downs since, arguments and makeups, pain and joy, but today was a day which would be filled with nothing but happiness. Today, after two years of teamwork and a year of being stupidly in love, Bucky was doing something he’d never imagined would ever happen.

He was getting married.

Married to his Franki. To the woman who was his perfect match, and, sappy as it sounded, his soulmate. He loved her so much it was impossible not to smile just thinking about her.

Throughout the last year, with Helen’s help, they’d figured out how to offset a lot of what Hydra had done. They could be apart for longer periods of time. Up to a month, thanks to the bracelets the Doc, Bruce, and Tony had perfected. The slow release of the chemical cocktails, the ones he and Franki produced naturally, kept them both from melting down when apart, as well as allowing Franki to easily accept the touch of others.

She would still rather people just not have contact with her, besides their close friends of course, but she didn't leap out of her skin with the slightest brush as she once would have.

And while Hydra still chased them both, as far as any of them knew, the agency was as of yet unaware of the success of their experiment. Which was good, great in fact, for had they come for Francessca again, Bucky knew he’d go full Winter Soldier on their ass.

But, today was not the time for such thoughts. Today, as he waited with Steve and Clint in a room off to the side of where the ceremony was being held, he ran his hand over his suit jacket nervously.

“You look fine, pal,” Steve clapped him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, man. And your bride… wow!” Clint smirked, teasing the big man.

It had surprised a few people when Bucky had asked Clint to stand up as a groomsman, but Clint had only grinned and said yes. Few knew he and the archer had shared many a late night drink as Clint had a hard time sleeping away from his family.

When Bucky was first back from Wakanda, the nightmares had been keeping him up. Always one to believe in seeing the best in people, offering a second chance when it was warranted, Clint had taken to talking to Bucky, offering an ear when it was needed, and advice or council when it was requested. They were friends. Not Bucky and Cap close, but close enough.

“I’m just a little…” Bucky trailed off, voice growing thick with emotion. “I never thought this could happen for me.”

“You deserve it, Buck. Really.” Steve pulled him into a back-slapping hug.

“Hey, hey! You two crush those boutonnieres, Laura and Tam will have your butts,” Clint warned, tugging them apart, eyeing both suits before fixing the petals on Steve’s rose.

Clint’s wife and Tam, the wife of Jack who’d taken Franki home with him after she’d gotten the news about her program, had become fast friends. They had been more than happy to assist Francessca in the wedding plans. Considering Franki knew nothing about what to do or what was needed, and Nat and Wanda were often busy with missions, the two civilians had taken the title of wedding planner to heart, keeping notes and lists and making sure Franki was pleased with the decisions. His little shadow had been glowing she was so happy with how everything had turned out. Bucky quite literally didn’t care as long as she was happy.

The one thing none of the women had missed out on, Tony too had insisted on going, was the search for the wedding dress. The women had taken over some boutique called Kleinfelds, a place with its own reality television show. From what he’d been told it had been incredibly special.

Tony, being his usual debonair playboy, billionaire self, had arranged the whole day, making Franki the center of it all. When she’d chosen what she said was the perfect dress, Tony had insisted on paying. After all, he was going to give the bride away. As he was playing paternal stand-in, he may as well go all out. It had made Franki cry, but they were happy tears.

The wedding location was another surprise of Tony’s. The mansion, fondly known now as House Avenger, was located not far from the tower and had once been the home of the Stark family. Tony had recommended he and Franki might like to relocate to give them more privacy shortly after they’d gotten together.

Seeing as how the rest of the team were tired of either hearing them or, in a few unfortunate cases, seeing things they’d rather not, it had seemed a sound plan. Considering the mansion was enormous, surrounded by top of the line security, and had a garden of its own, it was not a hardship to make the move.

He remembered the day a few months after they’d changed homes when he’d gone with Steve, nervous as hell, and picked out a ring. They’d gone in secret, something challenging to do when the entire city knew who they were, to the boutique of a jeweller called Cartier. The man had been over the moon happy to assist and keep it quiet until after Bucky could do the asking.

It took another two months before he’d worked up the courage, finally getting it done.

When the night came, he'd walked Franki through Central Park as they were want to do, taking her back to the swings from their first date. She’d laughed, teasing, saying he was going to get her in trouble again, but, when he seated her on the swing as he had the first time, he’d knelt to a knee before her. There, he’d spilled his guts and his heart, had pulled out a red velvet box, a match for her favourite coat, from his pocket and flipped the lid. Nervous as hell, he’d asked her softly if she’d marry him.

The tears had poured from her eyes, but she’d nodded with enthusiasm, laughing, squealing out an enthusiastic yes!

“Earth to Bucky?” Steve chuckled.

“Huh?” Bucky snapped back to the present.

“Someone here to see you.” Steve nodded his head towards the door.

Turning around, Bucky grinned for standing there, hand and hand with Jack O’Shea, was little Jimmy. “Hey, buddy! You ready?” Crouching down, he held out his arms.

The boy had stolen Franki’s heart. Upon meeting him, he’d taken Bucky’s too. The whole team loved the exceptional little boy. Tony had even created Jimmy his very own winter soldier inspired arm. It wasn’t going to stop bullets, but it was a fully functional prosthetic. With how close they’d grown, Jack coming on at the Tower to work in security, Tam joining him, and Jimmy getting into one of the better schools thanks again to a Stark recommendation, it hadn’t surprised him in the least when Franki had asked to include the family in the wedding. Tam had helped with preparations. Jimmy was going to be the ring bearer, but instead of a pillow - something far too girly, so he said - there was a miniature of Steve’s shield gripped in his metal fist, magnetized to hold the rings in place.

Bounding over, Jimmy threw his arms around Bucky’s neck. “Bucky! I’m ready.”

“Good. Me too,” he said, getting up with the boy in his arms.

“You clean up pretty good there, Barnes.” Jack grinned. In his opposite hand, he held four precariously clutched glasses. A bottle of Irish whiskey was tucked beneath his arm. “It’s an O’Shea family tradition to toast the bride. Thought you gentlemen might be inclined to join me?”

“Daddy says I have to be at least ten before I can do the toast,” Jimmy pouted.

Bucky, Clint, and Steve all chuckled.

“Oh, yes. Ten. Definitely.” Bucky agreed seriously with the boy. “Otherwise you’ll stay a little squirt. Wouldn’t want to stunt your growth.”

Considering how big Bucky was, Jimmy really didn’t want that. “I’ll wait.”

Jack handed out the glasses before pulling the cork from the bottle. “My grandfather used to say only the best would do when toasting a bride, so, Redbreast twenty-one.” He poured a few fingers into each glass, corked the bottle, and set it on a table. Accepting the glass from Clint, he held it up with the others. “To the bride. A woman of grace, courage, and a fortitude the likes of which I have rarely seen. Let’s drink to love which is nothing unless it’s divided by two.”

Before any of them could drink, Clint held up his hand. “I know you two fellows can’t get drunk, but I can and so can he, and if either of us does our wives will kill us. So, I will offer my toast as well before we down three fingers of whiskey, and have to pour another round. We’re doing this in one.”

Chuckling, Steve said, “Then all I have to say is, may your love be as endless as your wedding rings, Buck.” He clicked his glass to Bucky’s, grinning at Clint who was scowling at him. “What?”

“Just had to sneak yours in first, didn’t you, Cap?” Rolling his eyes, Clint turned his attention back to Bucky. “Bucky, if there is one thing I’ve learned after being married all these years it’s this. No matter the argument, your wife is always right.” They chuckled as a group, but he shook his head. “It’s not a joke. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, which will ever matter to you more than she does. So, if you two are butting heads, just ask yourself, would I rather win the argument or have a happy wife? Simple as that. To the bride!” Lifting his glass, he tapped it against Barnes’ and threw back the whiskey.

The other’s followed suit, each wheezing slightly with the burn.

“Wow…” Bucky gasped. “That’s good stuff.”

“Damn,” Clint breathed out, smirking at Jack. “You and I need to hang out more often.”

The door banged open. They all looked to the blond behemoth standing in the opening.

“Gentlemen! You toast without, Thor?” He stalked through the room with a wide, mischievous grin. Clapping a hand down on Jack’s shoulder, he didn’t notice when the man flinched beneath the force. “It is good, then, I come bearing a gift for the bridegroom!”

His voice boomed through the room, making Bucky laugh. “Glad you could make it.”

“Jane and I would not miss such an auspicious occasion! Thee are family, son of Barnes!” Thor plucked Jimmy from his arms, tossing him straight up to the boy’s delighted squeal. “And you, young Jimmy? How fares the new arm?”

Bucky smirked at Jack, sure the man’s heart had only stopped the once, instead of the dozen times it had the first time the god of thunder had done that.

“He’s doing just great,” Jack said.

“Excellent!” Handing the boy off to his father with a gentle ruffle of his hair, Thor, dressed in the Asgardian equivalent of formal wear, drew a flask from within his cloak. “The finest of Frigga’s wines, not for mortals,” he looked pointedly at Clint and Jack as he poured two half glasses. “Apologies.”

“Not to worry.” Clint had no desire to have his eyes explode or his stomach rot or whatever other calamities would happen if he did. “I’m going to go see if they’re ready for us.” Grinning, he and Jack, and small Jimmy headed out the door.

“My friends! We drink! To the fair Francessca! May she forever be the warrior she is today, and may she give you a hundred sons!” Thor boomed, throwing back the flask and drinking deeply.

Steve and Bucky exchanged looks, sipped the wine so as not to be rude, but before Thor finished, they each upended their glass in one of the potted plants nearest them.

“Tell Frigga we are most thankful for her gift,” Bucky said with only a small smirk. He’d had Asgardian liquor before. He’d really like to remember his wedding.

* * *

Smoothing her hands down the front of her dress, Franki glanced at the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time. The silk dress fit her like a glove, accented her breasts, flared at her knees and delved deep at her back. Crystals winked in the skirt and train, more glimmered in the cascading fall of curls her veil was tucked into and shone on the ring finger of her left hand where her engagement ring waited to be joined by a wedding band.

“ _Sestra_ , you are gorgeous! Stop fretting,” Natasha scolded, wandering over to fuss with Franki’s veil.

“Yes, you will knock Bucky’s socks right off with how wonderful you look,” Wanda agreed.

“Sorry, I’m just so… nervous,” Franki sighed.

“Then have a drink, precious,” Tony offered, coming over with two fingers of scotch, handing her the glass. “Calm yourself.”

“Thanks, Tony.” Franki smiled, taking a deep breath. “I just want everything to go right.”

“It will,” Nat assured her.

Clint arrived in the doorway, little Jimmy on his hip, snickering softly. “I see we're not the only ones abiding in a little liquid courage.”

“What?” Frankie gasped. “He’s drinking to get down the aisle!”

Seeing the waterworks wanting to start, Clint rushed forwards. “No! No, no. Jack had us do the traditional toast to the bride. A little whiskey was all. He’s fine, darling. Excited and ready.”

“Oh.” Breathing out a sigh, Franki nodded. “Good.”

“Thor’s in with him and Steve.”

“You left them alone with him!?” she yelped. “He’ll have Asgardian liquor!”

“Bucky isn’t going to do anything to muck up your special day, precious.” Tony took her by the hand and gave it a gentle pat.

“Okay, okay. You are right, _kotenok_.” Nodding Franki took a deep breath.

“Five minutes ladies!” Tam called out as she zipped past the door. “Clint! You’re in the wrong room. Let’s move it!”

“See you up there, _vorobey_.” Franki set her glass on the table, reached out and kissed his cheek.

“Oh! I almost forgot. He would have kicked my ass.” Grinning, Clint dug in his pocket. “Something old, for the bride.”

“I thought that was Barnes?” Nat snickered.

“Haha. Laugh it up, _sestra_.” Franki glowered at her while taking the box from Clint. Pulling on the bow, she tugged the lid off, lifted out the soft cloth within, revealing a beautiful cameo brooch. “Oh! It’s lovely.”

“Buck found it in an antique shop. It was just like one his mom had.”

Franki looked up to see Steve standing in the doorway. “Really?”

Steve’s eyes were teary as he nodded. “Can I have a minute alone?”

“Only one,” Laura called out as she zoomed past the door. “Barton! Move that ass!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Squeezing Franki’s wrist, Clint slipped out past Steve.

“I’ll be back for you, so don’t get any funny ideas about running off with blondie there,” Tony joked, thumping Steve on the shoulder as he sauntered out.

“Yeah. No runaway bride or I’ll hunt you down,” Nat warned with a grin.

Wanda only waved and shook her head, shutting the door behind her.

“Wow. Franki, you’re going to give the old guy a heart attack,” Steve said, striding toward her.

“I hope not. I would like to be a wife for a very long time.” Picking up her bouquet, a small one of red calla lilies, she worked at pinning the brooch to the ribbons.

Seeing her struggle, Steve held the bouquet so she could use both hands. Hey, Franki?”

“Yes, _belyy rystar’_?” she said, looking up into his bright blue eyes. They were like Bucky's only more sky blue than the sapphire of her man’s.

Cupping her hands, Steve bent to kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”

Shocked she gaped at him for a second. “For what?”

“For being you. For loving Bucky. For giving him the life he thought he'd never have.”

“It swings both ways, Steve. He’s done the same for me.” She’d never imagined she’d have a life outside a cage, let alone a man who loved her and wanted to spend his life with her. “It is good, _da_?”

“He’s… so happy. I never thought I’d see pre-soldier Bucky again. You’ve given him back to me.”

Her watering eyes had Franki reaching for a tissue. “They’ll kill me if I ruin my makeup.”

Taking it from her, Steve fixed the little run of her mascara. “There. Good as new.”

“I love him so much.”

“And he loves you.” Leaning down, he wrapped her up in a tight hug.

Franki smiled as she hugged him back. It was so nice to not want to crawl out of her skin. “Hey… Steve?” Turning her mouth to his ear, Franki whispered in it softly just as the door opened.

“Minutes up, Cap. They’re calling for you.” Tony frowned at the weird, excited puppy look on Steve’s face. “Yo, Capsicle! There’s a spot with your name on it beside Barnes which is empty.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” He nodded, hugged Franki a second time, and jogged out of the room.

“What was that all about, precious?” Tony asked. “You keeping secrets from your daddy?”

“Do not ever say that again.” Franki’s face twisted in revulsion. “It is not too late to replace you.”

“Nuh ugh!” He shook his head. “I paid for your dress, so the least you can do is let me walk you down the aisle, so I get to see Barnes’ jaw drop when he sees you in it.”

“Fine. But don’t ever refer to yourself as daddy again.”

“Whatever you say, snookums.” She glared, and he grinned. “Sweetums? Pooky? Moonpie? Sugar? Fine, I’ll stick to precious.”

She couldn’t quite control the urge to laugh, her lip twitching. “Tony?”

“Yeah, doll?” He grinned, knowing he’d amused her.

Leaning in, she kissed his cheek. “I love you. Thanks for everything.”

His eyes watered as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Daddy loves you too, precious.”

“Tony!”

He only laughed.

* * *

The want to fidget was upon Bucky when Steve jogged up beside him. “Well?"

“She looks great, pal,” Steve assured him. “Drop-dead gorgeous.”

“She’s always gorgeous, but that doesn’t explain why you look like you’re going to cry.” Bucky frowned at him.

“It’s a wedding. People cry.”

Clint snorted. “You cry at everything.”

It was true. Steve had been known to blubber at Disney movies, so this shouldn’t have surprised Bucky.

Looking out over the gathered crowd, he nodded to those who smiled or waved. There were far more people in attendance than he would have liked. But, as an Avenger, their wedding had taken on a social aspect which couldn’t quite be ignored. Or so Tony had told them.

He’d been concerned at first. This would have been a prime opportunity for Hydra to pull some shit, but the security was so high he’d almost had an issue getting in, and it was his wedding. Plus, there was a host of superheroes in attendance, more Shield agents than he could count, as well as a bunch of Asgardians who’d come with Thor. If Hydra was stupid enough to try something tonight, they were going to have their asses handed to them.

As for the rest, he didn’t know, or really even care who they were. They’d come to see and be seen. As long as they didn’t cause trouble, they could stay. They’d all be contributing to the charities he and Franki had picked out, so the more, the merrier in that aspect.

It wasn’t as if either of them needed wedding gifts. Everything they required was already stocked within House Avenger, standing tall and stately behind the gathered guests. Instead, they’d chosen to have people make donations to charities which were essential to them. Like prosthetic research for kids, something close to both their hearts.

The music changed, a hush came over the crowd. Everyone stood to their feet.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky breathed it slowly out as first Wanda, then Nat made their way down the aisle. Both looked great in simple red gowns which swept the ground as they walked. They smiled at him, Nat’s eyes a little damp, as they took their places. Next came Jimmy, his eyes big, a look of fear on his face. He froze about halfway down the aisle.

Bucky was quick off the mark, down towards the boy who he lifted up, tucked in his vibranium arm, and carried back to the altar with him. A chorus of awe’s followed which he ignored.

“You good, buddy?” he asked Jimmy.

“That’s a lot of people,” the boy whispered, hugging his neck, his makeshift shield dangling.

“I know, bud. You did great.” He patted the boy’s back.

Arriving back at the front, Steve held out his arms, but Bucky shook his head. “Nah, he’s fine.” Again Steve’s eyes watered, making him frown. “What the fuc-dge is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” Steve cleared his throat, straightening his spine.

“Sure, sure,” Bucky grumbled, turning to face the aisle again. He’d figure out what the fuck was up with his best friend later.

Right now, his eyes, as well as everyone else’s, were glued to the doorway from which Franki would exit. Tony stepped out first, looking his usual debonair self, red tie and pocket square perfectly aligned.

Bucky took a breath, held it, and exhaled hard when Franki appeared.

“My God…” his voice was filled with wonder.

“I know, right?” Steve chuckled.

“She’s gorgeous, man.” Clint’s grin was enormous.

In his ear, a little voice whispered, “She’s an angel.”

Bucky smirked a quick grin at Jimmy. “She’s my angel. _Moya zvezdochka_.”

Turning his attention back to her, he took in the stunning dress. He could see why she loved it.

It clung to her, moulded to all her lush curves, lifted her breasts to mound at the neckline. The sleek dress flared at her knees, trailed behind her, sparkled like it was covered in diamonds. The pure white set her skin glowing, her eyes shone with love and happiness. The glorious cascade of her chestnut hair fell down to her thighs in gentle waves, and the veil turned her into the most beautiful bride.

Her arms were bare, though the straps of her dress were wide. To have chosen something without sleeves caused his heart to swell. She was doing so well.

“Stunning,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off her.

When they reached him, Bucky handed Jimmy to Steve, shook Tony’s hand, and took Franki’s all without looking away from her eyes. The silver was soft today, her happiness so apparent he couldn’t stop himself when he leaned forward and kissed her mouth.

“Not yet, Barnes!” Nat barked.

“Mine,” he growled at the redhead.

Franki’s hand caressed his cheek. “You can have another later, snegopad.”

Her response set their guests laughing.

Vows were exchanged before the grinning priest. It hadn’t mattered to Franki what type of ceremony they had, but Bucky had been raised Catholic. Even after everything he’d been through, all he’d done, marrying her any other way had felt… wrong.

It would have been important to his family. It became important to him with that thought. She went with him willingly to the church he’d once attended mass at so many years ago, spoke with the current priest, and received a wholehearted yes by the man.

For once, his past had worked in his favour.

The ceremony went by in a blur after that.

He was unable to see anything beyond Franki’s eyes.

* * *

Franki stared up at Bucky, his eyes the startling sapphire blue she knew and loved. His attire for the day was not so far from what he’d worn to that fateful Halloween party a year ago. His hair was shorter than back then, but only just.

She liked it too much for him to cut it off.

He stood with her beneath the arbour of fall leaves, the trees of the garden of House Avenger a blaze in a riot of colour. The sun was setting in the background. A bird was singing. Jimmy giggled.

She noticed all these things yet saw none of them. Looking away from Bucky was impossible.

He’d rarely if ever, looked more dashing, more handsome than he did right now.

She wanted to engrave this moment on her memory forever.

He smiled, almost as if he could read her mind.

They exchanged their vows. Later, she would wonder how she managed, as she couldn’t seem to remember saying the words.

When it came time for the rings, little Jimmy had brought them to her on his blue and red shield. She’d crouched to kiss his sweet cheek, making him blush.

Bucky slid the ring over her left ring finger.

She slid one over his.

T’challa had surprised them both with a vibranium one which would work with his arm, as tough and strong as his hand was, ensuring he wouldn’t destroy it should he punch something hard.

She ran her thumb over it. Some smart scientist had discovered a way to tint it slightly, make it look like titanium, so it showed against his gleaming silver hand. It made her happy. No one would ever mistake it for just another part of his finger.

When, finally, they were pronounced husband and wife, Franki threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.

The roar of cheers rose around them.

* * *

Laughing happily, Franki dragged Bucky inside, away from the congratulating guests. She’d made prior arrangements to have Nat and Wanda gather their team for a post-ceremony toast. It was likely they would be inundated with well-wishers, but she wanted some time with those closest to her before that happened.

“What are you up to, wife?” Bucky grinned, enjoying her new title.

“You’ll see,” she said, smiling back at him.

He pulled her into his arms, spun her into the wall, pinned her there. “Have I told you yet how beautiful you look?”

“You have, but I don’t mind hearing it again,” Franki giggled. “But our friends are waiting.”

“Let them wait.” Bucky tucked his face down against her throat and growled. “God, could you smell any better?”

Laughing, Franki gave him a shove. Slipping away from his grasping hands, she picked up the front of her dress and ran for it.

“Oi! I wasn’t done with you!” Bucky bellowed, giving chase.

Racing into the room she’d waited in earlier, she skidded to a halt beside Steve whose arms came up to steady her.

“Easy there, doll face,” he said.

“Hands off, Rogers. She’s taken.” Bucky smirked at his friend before grinning at the rest of the gathered team.

Thor and Jane, Clint and Laura, Jack, Tam and Jimmy. Scott and Hope van Dyne. Sam, Wanda, Vision, T’challa, Natasha, and Peter. Maria and Fury. Tony, Bruce, Helen, and Steve. Everyone was there, waiting, glasses of champagne in hand.

He took one from Steve as Tony handed one to Franki.

Clearing his throat, Tony stepped forward. “A toast to the bride… and, I suppose the groom as well.” Quiet snickers rose around him. “You and I’ve had a rough go, Barnes, and I only got one thing to say about it. You’re a good guy, Franki’s lucky to have you, but you hurt my girl, and I’ll bring the hammer down.”

“I believe that is my area, Iron Man.” Thor chuckled, Mjolnir hanging from his fist.

“He gets my meaning,” Tony quipped.

“ _Kotenok_ , stop threatening my husband.” Franki glared at him.

“Just looking out for you, precious.” Tony winked at her.

Bucky only smirked. Tony was overprotective of Franki, just like he was her father. It didn’t bother him in the least. “It’s all good, Tony.”

“You’re all such men.” Natasha rolled her eyes. Lifting her glass, she said simply, “Congratulations, _sestrenka_. May your happiness never end.”

A chorus of here-here’s echoed, and they all drank.

All except Franki.

“Baby?” Bucky frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”

Franki glanced at Steve, noting the wet eyes and sappy smile. Nat’s were knowing, as were Wanda’s, and Helen’s were patiently amused.

Turning to face Bucky, she set her glass down on a table and took a deep breath. Placing her hands on his chest, she stroked her fingers over his lapels. “You may have noticed, snegopad, I did not send you a wedding gift.”

“Wasn’t a big deal, Franki. I–”

She pressed her fingers to his lips, arching a brow in warning to shut up. “I didn’t send you a gift, because I need to hang on to it for a while longer.”

He frowned, confused. “How long?”

“Oh, about seven months.” She bit her lip, trying hard not to giggle at the way the confusion cleared, became shock, then turned to complete joy.

“Francessca…” he breathed in awe. Dropping to his knees before her, he pressed his palm flat to her belly and leaned his head against her. “ _Privet, moy dragotsennaya malysh_.”

“Huh?” said Tony.

“He said, hello my precious baby.” Natasha wiped at the tears sliding down her face.

“Baby…” Tony gasped. “She’s pregnant!”

Steve laughed. “She sure is! Congratulations, pal!”

“Did you know?” Bucky asked, looking to Steve.

Franki, touched his cheek. “He said some very nice things to me before the wedding, lyubimaya. I should not have, but… I wanted to share with him.”

“Dollface,” Bucky rubbed his nose across her still flat stomach. “This is the best gift ever. Telling Steve doesn’t take away from that.”

“Nat, Wanda, and Helen also knew,” she confessed.

“That’s a given,” he chuckled, not at all surprised those three knew. They'd been talking about family, so in love with Jimmy they'd decided to try for one of their own, but he'd never imagined it would happen so fast. Getting slowly to his feet, hand still laid lightly on her belly, he looked to Steve and Tony. “Franki’s done.”

“ _Snegopad_ ,” she growled low.

“Absolutely,” Steve and Tony said together.

Franki huffed, but she wasn’t about to argue today, not on her wedding day. “We will discuss this later, da?”

“Discuss away, _malenkaya ten'_. Doesn’t mean you’re going back out in the field.” He swept her off her feet, up into his arms, holding her there with ease as he kissed her soundly.

Everyone gathered to give congratulations.

“Today is a most auspicious day,” Vision said, smiling down at Wanda.

“Come. We shall celebrate their good fortune.” Wanda grinned back.

“Let’s keep this between us,” Bucky said, looking around the room at all their friends. “At least until we can’t.”

T’challa smiled as he walked toward them. “You will come to Wakanda when the time grows near. A safe place away from Hydra. A sheltered place.”

“T’challa,” Franki whispered, tearing up. “Thank you.”

T’challa took her hand, squeezed her fingers. Leaning in, he kissed her cheek. “Congratulations, little shadow. On both your wedding and your impending arrival.”

* * *

Later that night, after everyone had left and only the two of them remained, Bucky stripped Franki slowly out of her dress.

She’d been gorgeous in it, sparkling beneath the floating lights of the reception.

They’d danced beneath the stars in the grass, the song chosen by Laura and Tam, Perfect by someone named Ed Sheeran had fit far better than anything he could have come up with.

She’d even kicked off her shoes, dancing barefoot, exactly like the song said.

Now, standing before the empty fireplace in their sitting room, he slowly pulled the straps down. The back of the dress, a plunging ‘V’ he’d failed to notice until his hand had slipped beneath her hair partway through the reception, had the sleek gown falling quickly to the floor.

He moaned, finding her standing in only a pair of lacy white panties, gartered stockings, and sexy white pumps. “You’re one gorgeous dame.”

She chuckled, sliding the jacket off his shoulders. “And you’re one handsome dude.”

“Tease.”

“Flirt.”

He chuckled as he took her by the waist and lifted her out of the pile of fabric her dress had created. “You tired, Mrs. Barnes?”

She shook her head. “Not tired, but a little hungry. I kept trying to eat and would get interrupted.”

“You should have said something, _malyutka_! You’re eating for two now. No skipping meals,” he scolded her gently, his hand dropping to rub circles over her belly.

“I did eat, but it was in fits and starts.” Pressing up on her toes, she wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck. “You get me a snack, _da_? _Pozhaluysta, dlya rebenka_?”

Stroking her bare back, he shook his head. “Is this how it’s going to be for the next seven months? Whenever you want something from me, you’ll tell me it’s for the baby?”

“ _Da_ ,” she snickered, kissing him firmly on the mouth. “I will not be able to use my body to get my way once I am big as house. I must learn new tricks for getting you to do my bidding.”

“Big as a house or not, you will always be the most beautiful woman,” he murmured. “And as that’s my brat in your belly making you big as a house, doll face, you’re just going to be sexier.” His eyes darkened, heated.

Franki sighed happily, melting into him. “You sweet talker. It’s already our wedding night. You don’t have to try so hard. I promise, you’re about to get lucky,” she whispered against his lips, feeling the hard length of him grow against her.

“Francessca…” he groaned, hands gliding down to grip her ass.

“Feed me first, Barnes,” she snickered when he froze.

“Still a tease,” he grumbled.

“And you’re a flirt.” He smacked her on the butt, making her jolt. “Hey!”

Chuckling as he let her go, he shot her a grin. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it, Franki.” He may not have understood the concept of pain equalled pleasure when it came to sex, and with Franki it was a moot point as pain just locked down her ability to feel anything, but she was a frisky little thing when it came to the bedroom. Far more adventurous than he’d ever expected. She quite liked his hands on her ass.

After he left the room, Franki darted toward the bedroom. It was all a ruse. She’d eaten enough to stuff the Hulk tonight. But she couldn’t put together the second half of her surprise if he were standing there watching her.

The girls had thrown her one hell of a bachelorette party. One which included some seriously sexy underwear, but it was the gift from Natasha she was after.

Her sestra had found a reproduction forties style nightgown in beautiful white satin. The wide straps made of the softest lace, dipped down into a deep ‘v’ both front and back. The satin made loose cups, slightly pleated before the waist tucked in tight beneath. Another wide band of lace defined her upper torso, then more satin fell straight to the floor.

She was ridiculously excited to wear it. So much so she giggled as she pulled it out of the box she’d hidden in her underwear drawer. Taking it reverently from within, she held it aloft, swiftly drawing it over her head. Flicking her hair from the back, Franki turned to the mirror and smiled. “Perfect.”

Bucky was going to swallow his tongue.

Squealing, she threw the robe on with it. It was a gift after all. The least she could do was let him unwrap her.

Hearing a noise in the other room, she took a deep breath, gave herself a wink in the mirror, and sauntered out to give Bucky his final present. “You were fast, snegopad. Are you perhaps ea…ger…” She froze in the doorway.

“Welcome, Mrs. Barnes. How good it is of you to join us.”

She didn’t recognize him, but the symbol on his chest was unmistakable. “Hydra scum!” she hissed, stepping forward. A half dozen weapons cocked, causing her to send a swift glanced around the room. “You are stupider than I thought if you think you can get away with this! Do you know how many heroes are in residence?”

“Two. You and Barnes.”

He’d called her bluff. The other’s had all left, returning to their homes or perspective worlds. “Are you so certain?”

“Positive.” His face was smug with triumph. “Come here, subject 7.”

Fear, overwhelming, unrelenting terror, pounded through her. “What?” she whispered.

“Or would you prefer Weapon F?” he chuckled. “Oh? Did you think the hard drive you stole was the only place the information on your… program was stored? How foolish. Come here now, and I won’t kill your… husband.”

Her legs were like lead as she walked across the room to stand with the middle-aged man. His features were cruel and hard, his eyes cold, his skin weathered. He’d evidently lived a hard life, one which had been permanently marked on his skin.

“What do you want?” And how the hell had they gotten in? There were at least a dozen agents around the room, each heavily armed. Why had their security failed? Where the hell was Friday?

He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger, tracing appreciative eyes down her body.

Franki refused to flinch. Her robe was well tied. He saw nothing more than her silhouette.

“They call you Reaper. What a shame. Losing someone of your talents will be horrible. It really is too bad we can’t simply wipe you. But, you will serve another purpose now.” His eyes dropped to her abdomen.

She had to fight not to recoil. There was no way they could know! What tests had been run had been done so by Helen, secretly and without a paper trail. This was merely him trying to reinstate the program. “I will never be a broodmare for Hydra!”

His hand latched onto her hair, jerked her around by it. “You will be a breeding bitch if that is what we tell you to be!”

All sensation had cut off with the first sharp pull. Cold, emotionless, empty, she stared him down. “I will never again be bitch for Hydra!”

“Not even to save your man?” he nodded towards the door.

“Franki, I wasn’t sure what all you’d want so I…” Bucky froze, eyes glued to Franki held captive by a Hydra agent. He shot a glance around the room, calculated the risks. “What do you want?”

“Ah, Winter Soldier. How good of you to join us.” He motioned Bucky forward with a wave of his gun.

Setting the plate he was carrying down, Bucky strolled toward Franki’s captor until the gun swung toward her temple.

“That’s far enough. Weapons?”

Gritting his teeth, Bucky shook his head.

“Show me,” the man from Hydra demanded.

Turning around, Bucky showed the tucked in back of his shirt. His sleeves were already rolled to his elbows, but he tugged both pant legs up. No weapons.

“Excellent. Now, we are going to have a little chat, then you are going to comply. Is that understood, soldier?”

Glancing to Franki, Bucky muttered, “ _Da_.”

“Good, good.” The man chuckled. “It’s quite simple really. We want our soldier back. Comply, and keep your wife. Resist, she dies.”

The gun cocked. Franki’s eyes never left his.

“Fine.”

“Bucky!” Franki gasped.

“Shut up, Franki.” He looked to the man holding her. “Do it.”

“Such a good soldier. It will be so nice to have you back. Let’s begin, shall we?” He didn’t wait for Bucky to agree. “ _Zhelaniye_.”

… _longing_ …

Franki’s heart pounded when Bucky’s fists clenched. “No…” It couldn’t be…

“ _Rzhavyy… semnadtsat’_."

… _rusted… seventeen_ …

He flinched, curling in slightly, his eyes darting back to Franki’s. “Baby… take care.”

Franki cried out, but the barrel of the gun pressed to her temple.

“ _Rassvet … pecht'… devyat’_.”

… _daybreak… furnace… nine_ …

His hands went to his head, fisted there as he groaned, an excruciating sound that sent tears streaming down Franki’s face.

“ _Dobroserdechnyy… vozvrashcheniye na rodinu… odin_.”

… _benign… homecoming… one_

He fell to his knees, the groan of pain becoming a scream of agony.

“Bucky! No! Fight it!” Franki screamed, uncaring of the gun at her temple.

The man holding her at gunpoint only laughed. “ _Gruzovoy vagon_!” he crowed triumphantly.

... _freight train..._

All noise ended; silence reigned supreme.

Franki’s face was wet with tears. There was blood dripping from the lip she’d bitten through.

Bucky was panting, still on his knees where he’d fallen.

“ _Snegopad_ …” she whispered.

“ _Soldat_?” the Hydra agent called.

“ _Ya gotov otvechat_.”

… _ready to comply_ …

“No!” she screamed. It couldn’t be! He’d been deprogrammed. But she found his eyes had become dead, lifeless. There wasn’t a hint of the Bucky she’d known anywhere in his familiar blue eyes. Here, now, sat the same type of soldier who had tried to kill her all those years ago.

The man with the gun hit her in the face, but it didn’t even register.

“Bucky,” she groaned. Sagging against the hold on her hair, the Hydra agent finally let go, allowing her to slump to the floor. Bitter tears cascaded down her face. “Bucky…”

“On your feet, soldier.”

Bucky rose, walked forward, paid no attention to her. “ _Ya gotov otvechat_ ,” he said again.

“Here. Show me you’re a good soldier. Shoot the woman in the leg. I have seen a video of her powers. I wish to see it in person.” The man from Hydra handed his gun to Bucky.

Checking the weapon, Bucky pointed it at her.

She didn’t care. He wasn’t her Bucky anymore. Whatever he did from now on, she would never hold it against him.

The gun fired, but as she felt nothing, she didn’t bother to flinch or look up until the body of the Hydra agent fell beside her.

“Francessca! Move your ass!” Bucky bellowed, wrenching her to her feet. Firing as they went, he herded her through the door to their bedroom. “Goddamnit, Steve! Do it now!”

A loud bang went off behind them, making Franki jump.

Bucky only slammed the door. “Are you hurt? Did you get hit? The baby?” His hands ran frantically over her body.

She could only stare up at him in shock. “Bucky…” she whispered, reaching for his face. His frantic hands stopped when the sob escaped her lips. “I thought… but you were… but you had been deprogrammed! What the _fuck_ , Barnes?” she screamed.

“Shh… easy, doll face. Calm down, baby.” He held her against him, rocked her gently side to side as floods of tears and choking sobs continued to pour from her.

Finally, once she was calmer, Franki pulled back enough to lightly pound her fist against his chest. “What the hell was that?”

Scooping her off her feet, he made his way over to the extra-large chair in their bedroom, one perfect for cuddling, or so he’d discovered when they’d first moved in. Sitting, he did so with her now, pulling her in, tucking her head beneath his chin, making sure she was wrapped up tight in his arms.  “No, the trigger words don’t work anymore. Steve and I, or Nat and I, go through them once a month, just to be safe. But, while we know the deprogramming worked, Hydra doesn’t. And we’ll keep it that way.”

A few more loud sounds, gunfire, slamming bodies, echoed outside her bedroom door. “And Steve? How did he know to come?”

“I knew the instant they breached the house and sent an alert. Not sure about outside yet, Friday was checking. But I couldn’t warn you, baby, not without tipping them off. I’m sorry, Francessca for scaring you like that.”

Turning her face into his throat, Franki trembled as the adrenaline wore off. “So much for our wedding night,” she sighed.

“And you look so beautiful. Where’d you find that, doll?” Her robe had come open in the rush for safety, revealing the lovely satin and lace beneath which he was slowly walking his fingers over.

“Natasha…” she sighed when his fingers trailed over her nipple.

“Hm, Natalia deserves a fucking statue in her honour. First your friend, then your sestra, now she gives you gifts like this? Damn, baby,” he chuckled, tugging her robe closed when silence outside preceded the knock at the door. “C’mon in, punk!”

“You’re a punk,” Steve grumbled, wiping drywall dust off his face. “You got to relax with a lap full of sweetheart while I cleaned up the mess.”

“Looks like you made a mess, _belyy’ rystar_ ,” Franki teased.

“You alright there, doll?” he asked, striding closer.

She nodded. “No damage, Cap.”

“Precious cargo and all?”

“Everyone is fine, Steven,” she huffed. “You are going to be just as bad as him, aren’t you?” She pointed at Bucky.

He didn’t even try to look contrite, just smiled and nodded. “We got ‘em rounded up, Buck, but you’re not going to want to stay here. Thor got a little… zealous and part of the roof is missing…” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

Another tentative knock came at the door, and T’challa poked his head through. “Am I interrupting?”

“Nope,” Bucky waved him in. “Who cares, it’s only our bedroom.”

“Hush, Bucky.” Franki scolded.

“I will not keep you, but I thought, with this sudden turn of events, perhaps it would be prudent to leave for your honeymoon… now.” The big man was in full Panther garb, carrying his helmet beneath his arm.

Steve, too, was fully equipped.

It always amazed her the speed at which they could get all that stuff on. “You might be right. Tony!” she bellowed.

“Yeah, precious?” His head, mask and all, poked through the open door. “Ooh, foursome. How progressive of you, Barnes.”

“Tony!” Franki gasped, “Get out!”

“But you called me in!”

“Then behave for once. This is important!”

He looked properly chastised, or at least his suit did. It was hard to tell with the mask down. He could be grinning for all he was worth in there.

“Fine. We have small problem,” she said.

“What’s that, doll?” Bucky muttered.

“The Hydra agent in charge, he called me subject 7.” She’d never seen four grown men panic so swiftly in all her life. “Calm down! I do not think they are aware of the program’s success, simply that I am with Bucky.” But it was too much of a risk to take. Especially now.

“We’re going to Wakanda.” Bucky’s voice was cold with finality.

“And if they come for me there? What happens when news of this pregnancy gets out?” She didn’t want to put more people in danger because it was convenient to hide out in Wakanda.

“My people would never speak of it if that is my wish,” T’challa promised.

“My baby is not something to hide!” Franki barked, tears coming to her eyes.

“You could always come to Asgard.”

She looked up to find Thor standing in the doorway, a massive grin on his face. “And never see my husband?”

His face fell.

Sighing, Bucky pulled her in tight. “We’ll figure it out, doll. Don’t fret. Let’s go to Wakanda, have a few nice days first before figure it out. Sound good?”

Sniffling, causing all the men in the room to freeze, Franki finally nodded. “ _Da_.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, her bags already packed, Franki walked onto the back of the quinjet.

Stopping at the top, she looked to her friends gathered at the bottom of the ramp. They waved or smiled, spoke words of farewell and well-wishes. She simply nodded, continuing inside to sit in the co-pilot seat beside Bucky.

“You okay, Franki?” he asked quietly.

“ _Da_ , but, I have a strange feeling I will not see them again for some time.”

When he reached over and took her hand, she knew she wasn’t the only one.

* * *

_**The** **End… for now.** _


End file.
